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 Solomon Islands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Television Personalities to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Sound Behaviour,
Duran Duran,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
Mantronix,
Tommy Roe,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Altered Images,
Danielle Patucci,
Rotary Connection,
Simply Red,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Angels of Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Kas Product,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Charles Mingus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tomorrow,
Ultra Naté,
Quadrant,
Bill Wells,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
Mark Hollis,
Roxette,
Fugazi,
Cheater Slicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doors,
The Skatalites,
Jacques Brel,
Desert Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Babytalk,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Quantec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Machine,
David McCallum,
ABBA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radio Birdman,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.