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 Bolivia and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes 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 Fire Engines to the grunge 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nas,
Silicon Teens,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fela Kuti,
Angry Samoans,
Quando Quango,
Subhumans,
Dawn Penn,
Siglo XX,
Sugar Minott,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
JFA,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Tomorrow,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
Supertramp,
Drexciya,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Pere Ubu,
The Evens,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
John Holt,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
Amazonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Charles Mingus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Fraelich,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
Lightning Bolt,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Victims,
Essential Logic,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
Pagans,
Bill Near,
The Move,
Chrome,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.