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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 crunk 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Excepter,
Piero Umiliani,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Cecil Taylor,
Kayak,
Main Source,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angry Samoans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
The Searchers,
Fear,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Davy DMX,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aaron Thompson,
UT,
Q65,
Niagra,
Derrick May,
Metal Thangz,
The Slits,
Dual Sessions,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
This Heat,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics,
Ronnie Foster,
Don Cherry,
Magma,
the Germs,
The Fall,
the Slits,
The Techniques,
The Birthday Party,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
The Mummies,
Bizarre Inc.,
Shuggie Otis,
Glenn Branca,
The Tremeloes,
New Order,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barrington Levy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
Radiopuhelimet,
Soft Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.