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 Poland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
Cheater Slicks,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crooked Eye,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ultravox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
Yusef Lateef,
Minny Pops,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spandau Ballet,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Human League,
Cameo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soft Cell,
Mo-Dettes,
Loose Ends,
Cecil Taylor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
L. Decosne,
Q and Not U,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Evens,
Shuggie Otis,
Nico,
The Slits,
Reagan Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
Mandrill,
Y Pants,
The Dead C,
Fugazi,
Suburban Knight,
Gabor Szabo,
The Litter,
Khruangbin,
Yellowson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Busters,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moleskins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
The Slackers,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
Alton Ellis,
Intrusion,
Eden Ahbez,
Josef K,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.