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 Namibia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Public Image Ltd. 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
Von Mondo,
Pussy Galore,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Massinfluence,
the Normal,
Dave Gahan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Ponytail,
Alison Limerick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rekid,
Roxy Music,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Sheep,
T. Rex,
Grey Daturas,
Bronski Beat,
B.T. Express,
Maurizio,
the Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronnie Foster,
MDC,
Steve Hackett,
Nik Kershaw,
Panda Bear,
Michelle Simonal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
Eden Ahbez,
Lakeside,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kool Moe Dee,
LL Cool J,
Tommy Roe,
Motorama,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stereo Dub,
Suburban Knight,
Rod Modell,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.