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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Donald Fagen 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 Marshall Jefferson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Pole,
Sight & Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Motorama,
Urselle,
Brick,
The Pop Group,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crooked Eye,
Gong,
The New Christs,
Pantaleimon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Eli Mardock,
Bush Tetras,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Lower 48,
Joey Negro,
Brothers Johnson,
Skaos,
Aaron Thompson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reagan Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gap Band,
Junior Murvin,
Black Sheep,
Kurtis Blow,
Newcleus,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Donny Hathaway,
Vainqueur,
Bang On A Can,
Aloha Tigers,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
Vladislav Delay,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Radio Birdman,
The Grass Roots,
The Divine Comedy,
Los Fastidios,
AZ,
Roy Ayers,
Boz Scaggs,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.