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 Vanuatu and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Circle Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
H. Thieme,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tres Demented,
Youth Brigade,
Gang Green,
China Crisis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harmonia,
E-Dancer,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Vainqueur,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Au Pairs,
The Moleskins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
the Slits,
Rotary Connection,
LL Cool J,
Reagan Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Absolute Body Control,
The Angels of Light,
Porter Ricks,
The Residents,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scott Walker,
Suburban Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
The Busters,
Davy DMX,
Dual Sessions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Skaos,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Holt,
The Black Dice,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Hill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Von Mondo,
10cc,
The Saints,
The Kinks,
Grauzone,
Scientists,
World's Most,
Nas,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Lalann,
David Axelrod,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.