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 Suriname and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cheater Slicks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
The Sonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
Minnie Riperton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Los Fastidios,
MC5,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Flash Fearless,
Jacob Miller,
Peter and Kerry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Tom Boy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Little Man,
Chrome,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neu!,
Soft Cell,
Sarah Menescal,
Cameo,
Jerry's Kids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Darondo,
Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Smiths,
Boredoms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David McCallum,
Smog,
Maurizio,
The Misunderstood,
The Modern Lovers,
Lucky Dragons,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Faraquet,
Donald Byrd,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Negative Approach,
Gang of Four,
Mark Hollis,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.