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 Mongolia and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar 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 Seeds to the techno 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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magma,
Donald Byrd,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Stetsasonic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
DNA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cure,
Rod Modell,
Stiv Bators,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Angry Samoans,
Barry Ungar,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson,
Surgeon,
Bill Wells,
Ultravox,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Sneak,
The J.B.'s,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
Kas Product,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
Mark Hollis,
The Remains,
Lou Christie,
Arab on Radar,
Von Mondo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Knickerbockers,
Absolute Body Control,
The Birthday Party,
Al Stewart,
The Gap Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Make Up,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sixth Finger,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.