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 Sudan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Red Krayola to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Brass Construction,
Howard Jones,
The J.B.'s,
CMW,
The Fall,
Fatback Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Motorama,
Bobby Sherman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Talk Talk,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Machine,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Lightning Bolt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
Second Layer,
The Velvet Underground,
Marmalade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kas Product,
Ludus,
Scientists,
The American Breed,
Altered Images,
Q65,
cv313,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
New York Dolls,
Lalann,
Suburban Knight,
Swell Maps,
June of 44,
The Index,
Colin Newman,
Crooked Eye,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Royal Trux,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fad Gadget,
The Moleskins,
Byron Stingily,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Leonard Cohen,
Pagans,
Rekid,
Todd Rundgren,
Subhumans,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.