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 Cambodia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vainqueur to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe 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 crunk 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Red Krayola,
The Blues Magoos,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
Brothers Johnson,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Halsall,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marine Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Shuggie Otis,
Scan 7,
Vainqueur,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Motorama,
Los Fastidios,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Oneida,
Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Todd Terry,
Sun City Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lower 48,
Camouflage,
The Slits,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
Arab on Radar,
F. McDonald,
Robert Görl,
Basic Channel,
Minutemen,
The Smiths,
Tubeway Army,
The Fuzztones,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Main Source,
Albert Ayler,
Eden Ahbez,
Qualms,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
Sugar Minott,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare,
New Order,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.