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 Jordan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Stooges 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fad Gadget,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vainqueur,
Harmonia,
Soulsonic Force,
Ludus,
Crime,
David McCallum,
Sun City Girls,
Bluetip,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Aloha Tigers,
The Young Rascals,
Gang Green,
Cameo,
Nico,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masters at Work,
The Last Poets,
Yaz,
Rapeman,
Vladislav Delay,
Blossom Toes,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Holt,
Eli Mardock,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat,
Derrick Morgan,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Leaves,
U.S. Maple,
Sarah Menescal,
X-101,
Scratch Acid,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Negative Approach,
Al Stewart,
Crispian St. Peters,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Hill,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
New Order,
Bob Dylan,
The Kinks,
Kaleidoscope,
Suicide,
Loose Ends,
Moss Icon,
Marmalade,
Cybotron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grandmaster Flash,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.