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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Index,
Warsaw,
Gang Green,
Section 25,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Black Dice,
Soulsonic Force,
Q65,
The Invisible,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
AZ,
Eric B and Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Depeche Mode,
PIL,
Ohio Players,
Alphaville,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dead C,
Livin' Joy,
The Toasters,
Todd Terry,
Letta Mbulu,
Pierre Henry,
David Bowie,
The Gories,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
The Move,
Pole,
Minor Threat,
Juan Atkins,
Quando Quango,
Chris Corsano,
Television,
Albert Ayler,
Marmalade,
Soul II Soul,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
10cc,
Pantytec,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
a-ha,
Swans,
The Monks,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mantronix,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.