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 Sierra Leone and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fear to the grunge 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
The Kinks,
Second Layer,
The Doors,
Skarface,
The Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
UT,
John Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Maurizio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erykah Badu,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
D'Angelo,
DJ Style,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Toni Rubio,
The Searchers,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Shoche,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Inner City,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Eyeless In Gaza,
8 Eyed Spy,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Soft Cell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minutemen,
Parry Music,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.