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 Denmark and from Manila.
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 Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lyres to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marmalade,
Soul II Soul,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
The Velvet Underground,
Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bluetip,
Joe Smooth,
John Lydon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Walker Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Symarip,
Susan Cadogan,
One Last Wish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hardrive,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fatback Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skarface,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bush Tetras,
Sixth Finger,
Howard Jones,
Whodini,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
The Associates,
Janne Schatter,
Arthur Verocai,
Second Layer,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
Unwound,
Hashim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sex Pistols,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faust,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül,
Lower 48,
the Sonics,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Moon,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Isaac Hayes,
Lindisfarne,
Ice-T,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.