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 Ghana and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Tremeloes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
Dave Gahan,
The Remains,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythm & Sound,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
The Shadows of Knight,
Carl Craig,
Danielle Patucci,
Franke,
The Fire Engines,
Scion,
The Martian,
Rites of Spring,
Supertramp,
Janne Schatter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Simply Red,
Royal Trux,
Essential Logic,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
Arcadia,
Bobby Sherman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
Infiniti,
FM Einheit,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cameo,
A Certain Ratio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
Throbbing Gristle,
Reagan Youth,
Whodini,
EPMD,
Bootsy Collins,
Kayak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quadrant,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Porter Ricks,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.