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 Niger and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
Connie Case,
Siglo XX,
Bill Wells,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül,
Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pop Group,
The Standells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Birthday Party,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
Rotary Connection,
Sarah Menescal,
Rites of Spring,
The Moleskins,
The Dave Clark Five,
Interpol,
Ronan,
The Barracudas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wasted Youth,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Sight & Sound,
Yaz,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Litter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalann,
Japan,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
Gastr Del Sol,
10cc,
The Fuzztones,
Michelle Simonal,
Camouflage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
Grey Daturas,
Clear Light,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.