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 Lebanon and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Beasts of Bourbon 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aswad,
The Monochrome Set,
Youth Brigade,
The Mojo Men,
The Zeros,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-Ray Spex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oneida,
Jawbox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
Skarface,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Flag,
Grauzone,
Robert Hood,
Ice-T,
Patti Smith,
Soul II Soul,
JFA,
Silicon Teens,
Maleditus Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Bourne,
Kaleidoscope,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Supertramp,
Porter Ricks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Godley & Creme,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Yellowson,
Smog,
Mandrill,
The Detroit Cobras,
Los Fastidios,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Amazonics,
AZ,
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gichy Dan,
Rod Modell,
The Barracudas,
Cameo,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.