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 Comoros and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Leonard Cohen to the crunk 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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Tomorrow,
The Red Krayola,
Maurizio,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
UT,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ronnie Foster,
Amon Düül,
The Blackbyrds,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soul Sonic Force,
Schoolly D,
Joyce Sims,
Dual Sessions,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
MDC,
Adolescents,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Fall,
Alison Limerick,
Howard Jones,
Jacques Brel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fear,
The Grass Roots,
Audionom,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young,
Kaleidoscope,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Qualms,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tears for Fears,
Deakin,
Zapp,
Cheater Slicks,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bob Dylan,
Surgeon,
Q and Not U,
Malaria!,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.