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 Venezuela and from Madrid.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
Scion,
Crime,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
Crash Course in Science,
The Invisible,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bootsy Collins,
Blake Baxter,
Black Bananas,
T.S.O.L.,
Suicide,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
The Smiths,
Amon Düül,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
Judy Mowatt,
Derrick May,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Count Five,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Real Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
R.M.O.,
The Smoke,
Aural Exciters,
Wings,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
Public Enemy,
Saccharine Trust,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soft Machine,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Sun City Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.