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 Uganda and from Manila.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Main Source,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Henry Cow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick May,
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Human League,
The Remains,
Ornette Coleman,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Deakin,
Excepter,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
the Normal,
Liliput,
Flash Fearless,
Morten Harket,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABC,
The Martian,
Barbara Tucker,
Fugazi,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
cv313,
Pierre Henry,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
Spandau Ballet,
Marmalade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flipper,
Cameo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Masters at Work,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Danielle Patucci,
Clear Light,
David Axelrod,
Grandmaster Flash,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
The Star Department,
The United States of America,
EPMD,
Mr. Review,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.