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 Albania and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 The Alarm Clocks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fluxion,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tommy Roe,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Drexciya,
Man Eating Sloth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Don Cherry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mad Mike,
Joensuu 1685,
Magma,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bootsy Collins,
Tubeway Army,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Charles Mingus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Wally Richardson,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Camberwell Now,
Cybotron,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Terry,
The Misunderstood,
a-ha,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Urselle,
Neil Young,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Girls At Our Best!,
Absolute Body Control,
Subhumans,
Yellowson,
Barry Ungar,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
JFA,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ohio Players,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bronski Beat,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.