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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sound to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Amazonics,
Rakim,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
ABBA,
Pagans,
The Blackbyrds,
Archie Shepp,
K-Klass,
Talk Talk,
Siglo XX,
Roxy Music,
The Smiths,
Agent Orange,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Fania All-Stars,
Excepter,
Bill Wells,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris Corsano,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gories,
Simply Red,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sister Nancy,
The Searchers,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sarah Menescal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Young Rascals,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camouflage,
Fear,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
the Germs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camberwell Now,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Motions,
The Sonics,
Babytalk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Zapp,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.