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 Iceland and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Real Kids to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
The Dead C,
Desert Stars,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Litter,
Donald Byrd,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
Barbara Tucker,
Dawn Penn,
L. Decosne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Sonics,
The Martian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camouflage,
The Doors,
The Music Machine,
Mad Mike,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Technova,
Dead Boys,
The Index,
Andrew Hill,
a-ha,
A Certain Ratio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The United States of America,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Ultra Naté,
The Motions,
Pulsallama,
Metal Thangz,
Pierre Henry,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Underground Resistance,
Cybotron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Henry Cow,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jerry's Kids,
Bill Wells,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.