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 Kosovo and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg 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 linndrum 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 Harmonia to the funk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Ohio Players,
48th St. Collective,
cv313,
Josef K,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Brass Construction,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Clarke,
the Normal,
John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bad Manners,
Banda Bassotti,
Deadbeat,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Crash Course in Science,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Absolute Body Control,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Toasters,
Technova,
Roxette,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
Ken Boothe,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spandau Ballet,
The Last Poets,
Scan 7,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
the Soft Cell,
DNA,
Bauhaus,
Marc Almond,
Smog,
Swell Maps,
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
the Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.