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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Prince Buster,
Los Fastidios,
Subhumans,
Henry Cow,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
The Index,
Pantytec,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Maleditus Sound,
Visage,
Mandrill,
Marmalade,
The Blackbyrds,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
Technova,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faust,
cv313,
Gang Gang Dance,
F. McDonald,
the Soft Cell,
The Red Krayola,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Albert Ayler,
Heaven 17,
Thompson Twins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Soft Machine,
B.T. Express,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Tremeloes,
Fela Kuti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television Personalities,
T. Rex,
Clear Light,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
The Residents,
The Velvet Underground,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tears for Fears,
The Associates,
Swans,
Rapeman,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
Sugar Minott,
One Last Wish,
Reagan Youth,
Television,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.