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 Suriname and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the disco 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
OOIOO,
Lungfish,
The Real Kids,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Agitation Free,
Crash Course in Science,
Nirvana,
Model 500,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Absolute Body Control,
Half Japanese,
Iggy Pop,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Duran Duran,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
Eve St. Jones,
The Leaves,
Eric B and Rakim,
Whodini,
Japan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sarah Menescal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Lower 48,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
Ornette Coleman,
Pole,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultra Naté,
Vainqueur,
Sugar Minott,
June Days,
Nas,
Archie Shepp,
Brick,
The Durutti Column,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Y Pants,
Moby Grape,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grauzone,
Black Flag,
Pylon,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.