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 Bhutan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Terry Callier to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barry Ungar,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
Deadbeat,
Jeff Mills,
Thompson Twins,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
The Gun Club,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Youth Brigade,
Eli Mardock,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Human League,
The Busters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doors,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Audionom,
the Swans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
New York Dolls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Y Pants,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Buckinghams,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soulsonic Force,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric Copeland,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
X-102,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cowsills,
The Trojans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Guru Guru,
Chrome,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
Index,
The Raincoats,
X-Ray Spex,
kango's stein massive,
Ice-T,
Rekid,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.