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 New Zealand and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Last Poets to the rap 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Dark Day,
Idris Muhammad,
Sight & Sound,
The Toasters,
These Immortal Souls,
The Red Krayola,
a-ha,
Freddie Wadling,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Bourne,
Archie Shepp,
Pantytec,
Underground Resistance,
Lucky Dragons,
Warsaw,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Oneida,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
the Sonics,
The Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers,
Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Royal Trux,
The Kinks,
Brand Nubian,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Machine,
Arcadia,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Rotary Connection,
Sun City Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.