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 Nigeria and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Eden Ahbez to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Erasure,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hoover,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker,
Adolescents,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lower 48,
John Holt,
Icehouse,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Smog,
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boz Scaggs,
UT,
The Slits,
MDC,
Lou Reed,
Ituana,
JFA,
The Happenings,
Quadrant,
The Busters,
Blancmange,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mojo Men,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Pus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
The Tremeloes,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
Terry Callier,
Can,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Deakin,
Deepchord,
James White and The Blacks,
The Dead C,
Con Funk Shun,
The Litter,
Neu!,
Pantaleimon,
Niagra,
Lalann,
The Martian,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.