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 Iraq and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cheater Slicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
The Gap Band,
This Heat,
The Raincoats,
Suburban Knight,
Slave,
Spoonie Gee,
Ornette Coleman,
Unrelated Segments,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
The Golliwogs,
Groovy Waters,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Wake,
Soft Cell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kerri Chandler,
Los Fastidios,
Severed Heads,
Deepchord,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slick Rick,
Lyres,
The Electric Prunes,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
Bizarre Inc.,
Suicide,
Icehouse,
Aaron Thompson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
Popol Vuh,
Second Layer,
Little Man,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
Scratch Acid,
Harry Pussy,
Symarip,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.