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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Index 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grey Daturas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultimate Spinach,
James White and The Blacks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oblivians,
Bill Wells,
Infiniti,
Agitation Free,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Pantaleimon,
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
Mantronix,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Index,
Robert Görl,
Delta 5,
48th St. Collective,
X-102,
Y Pants,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Alice Coltrane,
the Human League,
Malaria!,
Ronan,
Grauzone,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Sixth Finger,
Desert Stars,
Main Source,
The Divine Comedy,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
The Selecter,
Mars,
The Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aloha Tigers,
Reagan Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
CMW,
The Seeds,
Carl Craig,
Magma,
Black Bananas,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.