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 Oman and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Howard Jones,
Eve St. Jones,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Japan,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
New Age Steppers,
Al Stewart,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Cell,
Eden Ahbez,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sound Behaviour,
The Motions,
Andrew Hill,
Carl Craig,
The Happenings,
Skaos,
The Black Dice,
Vladislav Delay,
Moebius,
Lucky Dragons,
The Vogues,
Wolf Eyes,
Can,
The Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Alison Limerick,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hasil Adkins,
The Evens,
Maleditus Sound,
Pole,
L. Decosne,
The Birthday Party,
Model 500,
DJ Style,
Cal Tjader,
Hot Snakes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lungfish,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brass Construction,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Mantronix,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.