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 Mozambique and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Y Pants to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images 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?
T.S.O.L.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Black Dice,
Porter Ricks,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Minor Threat,
Royal Trux,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grandmaster Flash,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lalann,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bluetip,
The Tremeloes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Half Japanese,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
UT,
The Raincoats,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fall,
Quando Quango,
Motorama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
Vainqueur,
Black Pus,
The Vogues,
Kurtis Blow,
Neu!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
Magazine,
The Moleskins,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Outsiders,
Technova,
Blake Baxter,
Todd Rundgren,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sugar Minott,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lucky Dragons,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
Hasil Adkins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Cameo,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.