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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 theremin 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 Dennis Brown to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Vainqueur,
Adolescents,
Funkadelic,
Delon & Dalcan,
Quando Quango,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Clear Light,
LL Cool J,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pussy Galore,
Q and Not U,
Pantytec,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric Dolphy,
Livin' Joy,
Eric Copeland,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Masters at Work,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav,
Cameo,
The Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Swell Maps,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tears for Fears,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radio Birdman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gories,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Order,
Chrome,
Flipper,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unrelated Segments,
EPMD,
The Selecter,
Simply Red,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Hood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scratch Acid,
Fluxion,
Warren Ellis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Don Cherry,
Qualms,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronnie Foster,
Technova,
Soft Cell,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.