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 Chad and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Alphaville to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gap Band,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Saccharine Trust,
The Happenings,
48th St. Collective,
Nas,
La Düsseldorf,
the Fania All-Stars,
Smog,
Monks,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Skaos,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Amazonics,
Angry Samoans,
Wings,
Average White Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Remains,
Arthur Verocai,
Heaven 17,
Brick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soft Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
Marvin Gaye,
Reuben Wilson,
John Cale,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ten City,
The Busters,
Scratch Acid,
the Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pagans,
Essential Logic,
The Cowsills,
Chris & Cosey,
Aaron Thompson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amon Düül,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Don Cherry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul II Soul,
Ohio Players,
Subhumans,
Ronnie Foster,
Terry Callier,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.