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 Uzbekistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 La Düsseldorf to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Marine Girls,
Radiohead,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deadbeat,
Alton Ellis,
Arab on Radar,
Bang On A Can,
Grauzone,
Supertramp,
The American Breed,
Gong,
Bluetip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terry Callier,
Lalo Schifrin,
Thompson Twins,
Spandau Ballet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Colin Newman,
Intrusion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Wells,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Icehouse,
Crooked Eye,
Faraquet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Morten Harket,
The Slackers,
The Martian,
The Evens,
Soft Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-101,
Nico,
Crime,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Marmalade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Teasers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Das Ding,
Hardrive,
Buzzcocks,
Q65,
Prince Buster,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.