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 France and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Von Mondo to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Green,
Dave Gahan,
The Count Five,
Niagra,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Harpers Bizarre,
Talk Talk,
Sight & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
World's Most,
Guru Guru,
Darondo,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gories,
R.M.O.,
John Lydon,
Scion,
The Monochrome Set,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Bush Tetras,
Max Romeo,
La Düsseldorf,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brothers Johnson,
U.S. Maple,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Second Layer,
Al Stewart,
The Index,
Amazonics,
Gang of Four,
The Gap Band,
Joe Finger,
Reagan Youth,
The Human League,
The Golliwogs,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aaron Thompson,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Mark Hollis,
Anthony Braxton,
Infiniti,
Maurizio,
Erykah Badu,
the Slits,
The New Christs,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.