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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Carl Craig to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
a-ha,
The Star Department,
New Order,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hasil Adkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monolake,
Barry Ungar,
Reagan Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Isaac Hayes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Steve Hackett,
the Human League,
Q65,
Freddie Wadling,
John Holt,
Janne Schatter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lower 48,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
China Crisis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
Model 500,
Crooked Eye,
Iggy Pop,
Technova,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lindisfarne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Ohio Players,
Quando Quango,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gladiators,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
The Leaves,
Faust,
Ludus,
Shoche,
The Move,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.