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 Andorra and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Tubeway Army to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
The Sonics,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Ossler,
Scientists,
Arthur Verocai,
Amazonics,
The Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
Harmonia,
Sparks,
Eli Mardock,
D'Angelo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Motorama,
The American Breed,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Chrome,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
EPMD,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Masters at Work,
Morten Harket,
Mo-Dettes,
H. Thieme,
Warsaw,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fluxion,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rod Modell,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Aloha Tigers,
Dave Gahan,
Colin Newman,
Von Mondo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
The Raincoats,
Black Moon,
U.S. Maple,
Average White Band,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.