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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 The Residents to the grime 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion,
Yusef Lateef,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marine Girls,
Loose Ends,
The Golliwogs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Outsiders,
Soul II Soul,
The Barracudas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Audionom,
Toni Rubio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alphaville,
Lakeside,
Amon Düül,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Agent Orange,
The Selecter,
Main Source,
Kenny Larkin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispian St. Peters,
Todd Rundgren,
John Foxx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
This Heat,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Bourne,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Clarke,
The Music Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.