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 Micronesia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bob Dylan to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC 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 '50s 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 The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Martian,
Hot Snakes,
Blossom Toes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maurizio,
Eric Dolphy,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Reuben Wilson,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry's Kids,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Procol Harum,
Banda Bassotti,
The Victims,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
T.S.O.L.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Motorama,
Easy Going,
Juan Atkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Con Funk Shun,
Scrapy,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
Ponytail,
Matthew Bourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Marcia Griffiths,
David McCallum,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eve St. Jones,
D'Angelo,
Robert Hood,
Pere Ubu,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dawn Penn,
Simply Red,
Donald Byrd,
Sugar Minott,
Severed Heads,
The Doors,
Grey Daturas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
In Retrospect,
Little Man,
Q and Not U,
Mantronix,
Scion,
The Names,
The Electric Prunes,
Pagans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.