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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 The Mojo Men to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Pole,
Patti Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glenn Branca,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Mark Hollis,
The Saints,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Urselle,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aural Exciters,
Flipper,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
the Swans,
X-101,
The Knickerbockers,
Basic Channel,
Yaz,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment,
These Immortal Souls,
Eddi Front,
Schoolly D,
Hot Snakes,
Y Pants,
Suicide,
Lalo Schifrin,
Saccharine Trust,
Sarah Menescal,
Swans,
Duran Duran,
Eli Mardock,
Echospace,
Thee Headcoats,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grey Daturas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skaos,
the Normal,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.