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 Panama and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 The Barracudas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Pagans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monochrome Set,
The Victims,
Aural Exciters,
Derrick May,
Minutemen,
Aaron Thompson,
Tears for Fears,
Terry Callier,
Cybotron,
The Doors,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fortunes,
Visage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rufus Thomas,
FM Einheit,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Pylon,
Joe Smooth,
The Motions,
The Happenings,
MC5,
DNA,
Panda Bear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
Subhumans,
Neil Young,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fuzztones,
Spoonie Gee,
Arthur Verocai,
Sonic Youth,
The Barracudas,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Procol Harum,
The Sonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
Althea and Donna,
Isaac Hayes,
Henry Cow,
Fat Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Pus,
Make Up,
the Bar-Kays,
Electric Prunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.