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 Nicaragua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Dead C to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fugazi,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
Model 500,
Eli Mardock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Guru Guru,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Human League,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wolf Eyes,
Massinfluence,
The Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Happenings,
The Velvet Underground,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
David Axelrod,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
Ponytail,
Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Black Pus,
Von Mondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crooked Eye,
The Human League,
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
Derrick Morgan,
Buzzcocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harry Pussy,
Jeff Lynne,
Magma,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
Kerri Chandler,
These Immortal Souls,
Popol Vuh,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Barracudas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Pop Group,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
CMW,
Make Up,
Rotary Connection,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.