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 Andorra and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Michael McDonald 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Urselle,
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mummies,
Man Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Theoretical Girls,
Alphaville,
Mo-Dettes,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Leaves,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Camouflage,
The Human League,
Amon Düül,
Animal Collective,
The Wake,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Görl,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Dead Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Technova,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blake Baxter,
DNA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Altered Images,
Blancmange,
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Franke,
Monolake,
Kaleidoscope,
Leonard Cohen,
Index,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.