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 Greece and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Eating Sloth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
The Searchers,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
The American Breed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reagan Youth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Danielle Patucci,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yusef Lateef,
Average White Band,
New York Dolls,
Tommy Roe,
KRS-One,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Echospace,
The Fugs,
Howard Jones,
Unwound,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fuzztones,
Faust,
Johnny Osbourne,
This Heat,
Visage,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Star Department,
Tom Boy,
Parry Music,
Robert Hood,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
Moebius,
The Index,
Oneida,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
Essential Logic,
The Techniques,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter and Kerry,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Wasted Youth,
Marmalade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.