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 Samoa and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 ABC to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Flipper,
The Monks,
The Offenders,
Bauhaus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arthur Verocai,
Peter and Kerry,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Cybotron,
U.S. Maple,
the Human League,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sound,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker,
Donny Hathaway,
Danielle Patucci,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Boredoms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
The Five Americans,
Aural Exciters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
The Move,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dead Boys,
K-Klass,
Todd Rundgren,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smiths,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Golliwogs,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Barclay James Harvest,
DJ Sneak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maleditus Sound,
FM Einheit,
Franke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thee Headcoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scratch Acid,
Aswad,
Yazoo,
Kenny Larkin,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Black Sheep,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
Harry Pussy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.