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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 The Count Five to the rock 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
the Bar-Kays,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bill Wells,
The Black Dice,
JFA,
Black Sheep,
Royal Trux,
Moebius,
Minor Threat,
Glenn Branca,
Brothers Johnson,
Basic Channel,
Laurel Aitken,
Guru Guru,
Mo-Dettes,
KRS-One,
The Trojans,
Todd Rundgren,
Subhumans,
Sun City Girls,
The Toasters,
Amazonics,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Görl,
X-102,
Unwound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
The Velvet Underground,
June of 44,
The Leaves,
Curtis Mayfield,
Max Romeo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Albert Ayler,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
Bauhaus,
Drexciya,
The Knickerbockers,
Godley & Creme,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fear,
B.T. Express,
Radiohead,
Freddie Wadling,
The Searchers,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Infiniti,
Main Source,
Minutemen,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.