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 Sri Lanka and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
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 theremin 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 Lightning Bolt to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Names,
Heaven 17,
Monks,
Section 25,
Motorama,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Supertramp,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Unwound,
Colin Newman,
Bob Dylan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Spandau Ballet,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers,
L. Decosne,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
Crime,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
Slave,
Marvin Gaye,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Das Ding,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amazonics,
Urselle,
The Five Americans,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The United States of America,
Lakeside,
Altered Images,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
Rotary Connection,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Index,
Soul II Soul,
Agent Orange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Circle Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
MDC,
Theoretical Girls,
The Dead C,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Goldenarms,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.