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 Gambia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the theremin 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
June Days,
New Order,
AZ,
Camouflage,
Pet Shop Boys,
June of 44,
Gichy Dan,
Japan,
Hardrive,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neu!,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Can,
Newcleus,
Lyres,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Black Moon,
Unwound,
Delta 5,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
Qualms,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cluster,
Byron Stingily,
Yazoo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Smoke,
the Swans,
Alice Coltrane,
Donny Hathaway,
Roger Hodgson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Parrish,
Metal Thangz,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Sneak,
Q and Not U,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Sixth Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Saccharine Trust,
Kayak,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultravox,
Sällskapet,
Mr. Review,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.