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 Macedonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Soft Cell to the crunk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
UT,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Machine,
Pantytec,
Neil Young,
Magma,
Patti Smith,
Robert Hood,
Tim Buckley,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
ABBA,
Blancmange,
Joy Division,
Kerrie Biddell,
Young Marble Giants,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Halsall,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Joyce Sims,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fugs,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlback,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
Rites of Spring,
Nils Olav,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Faraquet,
Rod Modell,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
Ronnie Foster,
The Modern Lovers,
Moby Grape,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
The Divine Comedy,
La Düsseldorf,
Bluetip,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moss Icon,
Schoolly D,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.