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 Thailand and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harry Pussy to the dance 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Cecil Taylor,
Dave Gahan,
Peter & Gordon,
Minny Pops,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül II,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott Heron,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Names,
Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
Procol Harum,
the Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
The Offenders,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cluster,
Pagans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bad Manners,
Freddie Wadling,
Gichy Dan,
The Sonics,
Black Bananas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cameo,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
Aswad,
Q and Not U,
Eurythmics,
Quantec,
Second Layer,
Jeru the Damaja,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Juan Atkins,
The Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Fad Gadget,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.