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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Mo-Dettes to the funk 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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
Godley & Creme,
Gabor Szabo,
Nils Olav,
Arcadia,
Bluetip,
Swans,
Nico,
Sight & Sound,
The Monks,
Kas Product,
Pharoah Sanders,
New York Dolls,
Soul II Soul,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Pop Group,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Donald Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Graham Central Station,
Goldenarms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scratch Acid,
Popol Vuh,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
China Crisis,
Pulsallama,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skaos,
Juan Atkins,
the Soft Cell,
Suburban Knight,
Organ,
Franke,
Technova,
The Kinks,
Charles Mingus,
Sam Rivers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Standells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Simply Red,
Quando Quango,
Quantec,
Stiv Bators,
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
Fugazi,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bush Tetras,
Ronnie Foster,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.