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 Belarus and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Zapp to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Techniques,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Qualms,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Scion,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jacob Miller,
Youth Brigade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slackers,
the Bar-Kays,
the Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Skarface,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Graham Central Station,
Silicon Teens,
Ralphi Rosario,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
Terry Callier,
Neu!,
Fad Gadget,
Jesper Dahlback,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Rundgren,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hot Snakes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Henry Cow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
Fat Boys,
Half Japanese,
Newcleus,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
FM Einheit,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dave Gahan,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Banda Bassotti,
Scientists,
Audionom,
Sandy B,
Joe Finger,
Rekid,
Laurel Aitken,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.