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 Micronesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Rufus Thomas to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerri Chandler,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bad Manners,
The Red Krayola,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gichy Dan,
Max Romeo,
Whodini,
Wolf Eyes,
Crime,
Moss Icon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Qualms,
Sister Nancy,
Leonard Cohen,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Green,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gories,
Cal Tjader,
The Pretty Things,
World's Most,
Eric Copeland,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra,
Q65,
Anakelly,
Supertramp,
LL Cool J,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Niagra,
Gong,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division,
The Count Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sixth Finger,
Harmonia,
Jacob Miller,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Nas,
Crash Course in Science,
Bush Tetras,
Camberwell Now,
Rod Modell,
Negative Approach,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.