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 Jamaica and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Velvet Underground to the electroclash 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
Rhythm & Sound,
Isaac Hayes,
Accadde A,
Pagans,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
Scion,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wally Richardson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Seeds,
Gong,
Ultra Naté,
Organ,
Joey Negro,
Ten City,
Half Japanese,
Lakeside,
Cecil Taylor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lightning Bolt,
Reuben Wilson,
Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Toni Rubio,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Sherman,
Marc Almond,
Ice-T,
Jandek,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Green,
Section 25,
Scott Walker,
Reagan Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Kayak,
Marmalade,
D'Angelo,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
H. Thieme,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
Jacques Brel,
The Victims,
Flipper,
John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
X-101,
Little Man,
Joensuu 1685,
Lou Christie,
Wasted Youth,
Marine Girls,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.