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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Houston.
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 Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer 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 Fluxion 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sällskapet,
Rapeman,
The Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scratch Acid,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yellowson,
Terry Callier,
Vainqueur,
Blancmange,
The Index,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
The Searchers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Graham Central Station,
Slick Rick,
Marmalade,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Lynne,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Pierre Henry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tres Demented,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roger Hodgson,
the Swans,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smoke,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-102,
Monolake,
Scrapy,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Flag,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gap Band,
Rites of Spring,
Eurythmics,
Sight & Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Au Pairs,
Janne Schatter,
The Busters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
OOIOO,
F. McDonald,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.