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 Guyana and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Josef K,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hoover,
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
Al Stewart,
The Standells,
Black Flag,
Bobby Hutcherson,
L. Decosne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
The Selecter,
ABC,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
The Monks,
The Evens,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Matthew Bourne,
Darondo,
Suicide,
Interpol,
Cymande,
Gong,
Fad Gadget,
The Motions,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Sheep,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Whodini,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Silicon Teens,
X-Ray Spex,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Joey Negro,
Dave Gahan,
Pussy Galore,
Blancmange,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys,
LL Cool J,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.