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 Serbia and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scientists to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice 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?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Charles Mingus,
Moebius,
Chrome,
The Dirtbombs,
Unwound,
Deadbeat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yellowson,
Duran Duran,
Nick Fraelich,
Rosa Yemen,
Ten City,
The Count Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Rapeman,
Black Pus,
The Fortunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Index,
The Cramps,
Ronan,
Eric Copeland,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Prunes,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
The Walker Brothers,
Parry Music,
Pole,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
These Immortal Souls,
Cal Tjader,
This Heat,
Kurtis Blow,
Drexciya,
Barrington Levy,
The Divine Comedy,
Bronski Beat,
Blossom Toes,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Clarke,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Kayak,
the Normal,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.