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 Vietnam and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Doors,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Association,
Television,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Thompson Twins,
Silicon Teens,
Arab on Radar,
Black Bananas,
Can,
Ralphi Rosario,
Josef K,
Accadde A,
Be Bop Deluxe,
David McCallum,
Funkadelic,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultra Naté,
Camouflage,
Robert Wyatt,
The Gladiators,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
Aswad,
Surgeon,
Fluxion,
The Move,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
The Grass Roots,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lyres,
Fugazi,
Public Image Ltd.,
Michelle Simonal,
The Modern Lovers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cal Tjader,
Patti Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Hot Snakes,
Nik Kershaw,
Groovy Waters,
Tom Boy,
Audionom,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.