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 Bulgaria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Technova to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Tomorrow,
Quando Quango,
Fela Kuti,
Eric Dolphy,
Procol Harum,
Barclay James Harvest,
Qualms,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
The Last Poets,
Severed Heads,
The Young Rascals,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Moebius,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
ABC,
Lungfish,
Minor Threat,
The Fall,
The Motions,
Morten Harket,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Busters,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxette,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blues Magoos,
The Offenders,
Cybotron,
Boredoms,
Gabor Szabo,
R.M.O.,
Section 25,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nick Fraelich,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Guru Guru,
Young Marble Giants,
The Trojans,
June of 44,
The Misunderstood,
Underground Resistance,
Country Teasers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Leonard Cohen,
Oneida,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.