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 Poland and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Groovy Waters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Monolake,
The Gories,
Davy DMX,
Black Flag,
World's Most,
The Moody Blues,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
Tomorrow,
Marvin Gaye,
The Golliwogs,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sister Nancy,
Mo-Dettes,
Godley & Creme,
Janne Schatter,
Bad Manners,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
Groovy Waters,
Al Stewart,
Slave,
The Barracudas,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Enemy,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Sixth Finger,
Erykah Badu,
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
Patti Smith,
The Smiths,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Glenn Branca,
The Durutti Column,
Ronnie Foster,
Drexciya,
The Cure,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Terry Callier,
Matthew Bourne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Organ,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
The United States of America,
Sugar Minott,
The Neon Judgement,
Ronan,
The J.B.'s,
Oneida,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.