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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 David Bowie 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 Red Krayola to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Model 500,
Rekid,
Qualms,
Albert Ayler,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalann,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Pretty Things,
Pylon,
ABBA,
Charles Mingus,
The Beau Brummels,
Funky Four + One,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Red Krayola,
Skriet,
David Bowie,
Kayak,
Mad Mike,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül,
Q65,
The Evens,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pole,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Massinfluence,
Robert Hood,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rotary Connection,
Gang of Four,
One Last Wish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gladiators,
Negative Approach,
Henry Cow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Theoretical Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
It's A Beautiful Day,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Smog,
Mandrill,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.