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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kenny Larkin to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Toni Rubio,
Suicide,
Peter and Kerry,
Funkadelic,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Moss Icon,
June of 44,
Yusef Lateef,
Arthur Verocai,
Oblivians,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
KRS-One,
Television Personalities,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Lightning Bolt,
The Red Krayola,
The Smiths,
New York Dolls,
Gong,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
UT,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marshall Jefferson,
L. Decosne,
Gichy Dan,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ronnie Foster,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nico,
Maleditus Sound,
Guru Guru,
the Slits,
Patti Smith,
Lakeside,
Kaleidoscope,
The Residents,
Excepter,
Pylon,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
10cc,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quando Quango,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Motions,
The Durutti Column,
John Foxx,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.