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 Kazakhstan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the jazz 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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Eli Mardock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
Eddi Front,
Thompson Twins,
Nico,
Unrelated Segments,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
Main Source,
Black Moon,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Sherman,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gladiators,
ABBA,
The Dirtbombs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Teasers,
Junior Murvin,
Minutemen,
Hasil Adkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sandy B,
Ornette Coleman,
Camouflage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
Pylon,
Ossler,
The Golliwogs,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
Man Parrish,
Peter and Kerry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Organ,
The Divine Comedy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Adolescents,
The Walker Brothers,
The Barracudas,
The Kinks,
Eden Ahbez,
June Days,
Spoonie Gee,
The Red Krayola,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.