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 Ukraine and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
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 güiro 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 Eli Mardock to the dance 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
Angry Samoans,
Nas,
Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Lindisfarne,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Chris & Cosey,
Country Teasers,
New Age Steppers,
The Gap Band,
Henry Cow,
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Pretty Things,
The Evens,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
Minutemen,
Connie Case,
Minny Pops,
Barclay James Harvest,
June of 44,
Main Source,
Sandy B,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Walker Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kas Product,
Subhumans,
Oblivians,
Urselle,
Oneida,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlback,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
Yaz,
Ultra Naté,
The Gories,
Johnny Clarke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soulsonic Force,
Minor Threat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.