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 France and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 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 The Remains to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Names 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Franke,
Supertramp,
Roy Ayers,
Au Pairs,
Outsiders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Yusef Lateef,
Sällskapet,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Joe & The Fish,
FM Einheit,
Dead Boys,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
Drexciya,
Joensuu 1685,
The Associates,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Pretty Things,
Heaven 17,
Kaleidoscope,
Roxy Music,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nirvana,
The Fortunes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Last Poets,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Main Source,
Qualms,
Icehouse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Wells,
Lyres,
Skaos,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Andrew Hill,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
K-Klass,
Monks,
The Seeds,
The Cramps,
Ice-T,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Bad Manners,
DJ Sneak,
Leonard Cohen,
Ohio Players,
Con Funk Shun,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.