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 Morocco and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Clarke,
Parry Music,
Country Teasers,
Moby Grape,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Vogues,
Circle Jerks,
Interpol,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Wire,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brothers Johnson,
June of 44,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Television,
Crime,
Black Flag,
Hashim,
Bobby Sherman,
Lindisfarne,
The Pop Group,
Sugar Minott,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rod Modell,
James White and The Blacks,
Blancmange,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
Joe Smooth,
Eddi Front,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Al Stewart,
Pantaleimon,
The Victims,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Aloha Tigers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Faust,
The Searchers,
Livin' Joy,
Little Man,
Avey Tare,
Simply Red,
Yellowson,
Camberwell Now,
Mission of Burma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.