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 Israel and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Connie Case,
In Retrospect,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Flag,
Pantytec,
Pere Ubu,
Jacques Brel,
the Human League,
The Fall,
Von Mondo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Erasure,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Sarah Menescal,
Pantaleimon,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
Masters at Work,
Bizarre Inc.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heaven 17,
Stereo Dub,
June Days,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cymande,
Livin' Joy,
Quadrant,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fortunes,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Moss Icon,
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
Country Teasers,
Ken Boothe,
Lebanon Hanover,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
The Motions,
Crooked Eye,
R.M.O.,
Arab on Radar,
Derrick Morgan,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.