Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Vietnam and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Procol Harum to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Albert Ayler,
Angry Samoans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fugs,
Animal Collective,
Stiv Bators,
The Associates,
Kaleidoscope,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage,
Wolf Eyes,
The Durutti Column,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Au Pairs,
Marc Almond,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
Minny Pops,
kango's stein massive,
Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Little Man,
Crime,
Supertramp,
Black Flag,
the Normal,
Robert Görl,
The Fuzztones,
Ronan,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arab on Radar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alphaville,
Zero Boys,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
The Toasters,
A Certain Ratio,
Alton Ellis,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dirtbombs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Invisible,
Ice-T,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
Audionom,
Accadde A,
Joyce Sims,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.