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 Spain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 E-Dancer to the rock 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Saints,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soft Machine,
Michelle Simonal,
The American Breed,
Joensuu 1685,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Slits,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soulsonic Force,
Andrew Hill,
Tears for Fears,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
Intrusion,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
Brass Construction,
Juan Atkins,
The Blackbyrds,
Erykah Badu,
Deepchord,
Sandy B,
Zero Boys,
Camouflage,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
the Human League,
Lungfish,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra,
Half Japanese,
Josef K,
Jeru the Damaja,
Toni Rubio,
The Index,
Unrelated Segments,
Banda Bassotti,
kango's stein massive,
Y Pants,
Amazonics,
The Names,
The Kinks,
Flipper,
X-101,
Joe Smooth,
Essential Logic,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
The Barracudas,
EPMD,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pierre Henry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.