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 Bahamas and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bill Near to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and a 808 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 organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Yazoo,
Camberwell Now,
Barry Ungar,
The Wake,
Deadbeat,
Gong,
Y Pants,
Nils Olav,
John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül II,
Dead Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dark Day,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Birthday Party,
Frankie Knuckles,
Michelle Simonal,
Juan Atkins,
The Star Department,
Dawn Penn,
Trumans Water,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Tommy Roe,
Wasted Youth,
The Music Machine,
10cc,
Intrusion,
Pole,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sight & Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Aural Exciters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
This Heat,
Adolescents,
Matthew Halsall,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
The Cure,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.