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 Fiji and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Sunsets and Hearts,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
The Techniques,
Mo-Dettes,
Fat Boys,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soft Machine,
This Heat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lindisfarne,
Cameo,
Hasil Adkins,
Altered Images,
Sugar Minott,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Finger,
DJ Style,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blake Baxter,
Cymande,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
the Germs,
Iggy Pop,
Boredoms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fortunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Inner City,
La Düsseldorf,
The Star Department,
The Names,
Yazoo,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rites of Spring,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Five Americans,
Joensuu 1685,
The Alarm Clocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.