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 Egypt and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 David Bowie 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 Wolf Eyes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Move,
Essential Logic,
Wasted Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Juan Atkins,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang of Four,
Bang On A Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smiths,
The Human League,
Agitation Free,
Fluxion,
Soft Machine,
Basic Channel,
The Walker Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Roger Hodgson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Television,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joe Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
UT,
Nick Fraelich,
Minutemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
The Selecter,
Darondo,
Suicide,
Yazoo,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
The Mummies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Television Personalities,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vainqueur,
Chris Corsano,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Todd Rundgren,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
EPMD,
Deadbeat,
Charles Mingus,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.