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 Somalia and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Michelle Simonal to the dance 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Knickerbockers,
Patti Smith,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Spandau Ballet,
Minutemen,
Von Mondo,
Buzzcocks,
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
Reagan Youth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101,
Groovy Waters,
Fluxion,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Surgeon,
New Order,
Gil Scott Heron,
Animal Collective,
The Angels of Light,
Magma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aloha Tigers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joy Division,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Leaves,
The Monks,
Skaos,
Alice Coltrane,
Morten Harket,
Harmonia,
Anthony Braxton,
Adolescents,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
Danielle Patucci,
Alton Ellis,
Cecil Taylor,
Smog,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kaleidoscope,
Television,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.