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 South Africa and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Soul Sonic Force to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
The Fuzztones,
Warren Ellis,
The Monks,
Talk Talk,
Flash Fearless,
Byron Stingily,
The Young Rascals,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crime,
The Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
Joensuu 1685,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
Joy Division,
The Slits,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Half Japanese,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Suicide,
Urselle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric Copeland,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Faust,
The Gap Band,
The American Breed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
CMW,
The Real Kids,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
a-ha,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scrapy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed,
Wings,
MC5,
Gong,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Almond,
Buzzcocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.