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 Paraguay and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Crooked Eye to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Urselle,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Prince Buster,
Reagan Youth,
Neu!,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Kas Product,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
Eden Ahbez,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Harpers Bizarre,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Sneak,
Toni Rubio,
Clear Light,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Flag,
Swell Maps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Josef K,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joey Negro,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brass Construction,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Man Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
John Foxx,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
Dawn Penn,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
The Dead C,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Anthony Braxton,
Scott Walker,
Circle Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.