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 Macedonia and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 UT 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soulsonic Force,
Circle Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Lyres,
Icehouse,
Animal Collective,
Blancmange,
the Human League,
The Black Dice,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Basic Channel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Talk Talk,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
The Saints,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Kinks,
The Grass Roots,
Boredoms,
Black Sheep,
The Monks,
David McCallum,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
Vladislav Delay,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Theoretical Girls,
Dual Sessions,
John Holt,
Excepter,
Magma,
Television Personalities,
The Dead C,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Susan Cadogan,
MDC,
Black Bananas,
Crash Course in Science,
Barry Ungar,
The Barracudas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flash Fearless,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
Fear,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
Thompson Twins,
Yaz,
The Move,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.