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 Russia and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers,
Toni Rubio,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Busters,
Henry Cow,
Robert Görl,
The Gun Club,
Amon Düül II,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rosa Yemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Donald Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Bad Manners,
Main Source,
Kayak,
Shoche,
Leonard Cohen,
Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Birthday Party,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stetsasonic,
Tom Boy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Urselle,
La Düsseldorf,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Max Romeo,
The Golliwogs,
Robert Hood,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Absolute Body Control,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Pretty Things,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Slave,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Shuggie Otis,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.