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 Brunei and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Holger Czukay 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 Sugar Minott to the dance 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
Scratch Acid,
Country Teasers,
Dawn Penn,
Sparks,
Al Stewart,
Gong,
Crime,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Khruangbin,
Kurtis Blow,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Outsiders,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donny Hathaway,
Con Funk Shun,
Minnie Riperton,
Altered Images,
Eve St. Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Standells,
Bad Manners,
Dennis Brown,
James White and The Blacks,
Neu!,
CMW,
the Human League,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fall,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
Pagans,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Electric Prunes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ludus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
Basic Channel,
Yaz,
Susan Cadogan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Duran Duran,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Arab on Radar,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.