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 Tanzania 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Hoover,
Yaz,
Gong,
F. McDonald,
Black Sheep,
Anakelly,
Drexciya,
Gang of Four,
DJ Style,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-101,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Hood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lower 48,
Clear Light,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
Q65,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kaleidoscope,
PIL,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
China Crisis,
H. Thieme,
Loose Ends,
David McCallum,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Isaac Hayes,
Agitation Free,
Fugazi,
Fear,
Symarip,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Vogues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Letta Mbulu,
Maurizio,
Black Bananas,
Don Cherry,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wally Richardson,
The United States of America,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Accadde A,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
The Last Poets,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen,
Qualms,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
Boz Scaggs,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.