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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 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 Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
The Cure,
This Heat,
Marcia Griffiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brothers Johnson,
Funkadelic,
Bluetip,
Harmonia,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Connie Case,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Al Stewart,
Scion,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yusef Lateef,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
Vainqueur,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
the Germs,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
Gang Starr,
The Golliwogs,
The Gun Club,
Lalann,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeff Lynne,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Terry,
The Moody Blues,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Flag,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.