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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Depeche Mode to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kayak,
the Germs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
June of 44,
The Music Machine,
the Sonics,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Jawbox,
Joy Division,
The Skatalites,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Association,
The Cowsills,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Todd Terry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Prince Buster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Yazoo,
Bobby Womack,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Normal,
Dawn Penn,
Fat Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
Cymande,
Neil Young,
OOIOO,
Animal Collective,
Q and Not U,
The Wake,
Newcleus,
Dorothy Ashby,
La Düsseldorf,
Mad Mike,
The Fugs,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Funky Four + One,
Kenny Larkin,
ABC,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.