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 Liechtenstein and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
The Busters,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fall,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
Bauhaus,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
Easy Going,
Deadbeat,
Scion,
Bootsy Collins,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Gories,
Avey Tare,
the Fania All-Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
The Human League,
Quadrant,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Toni Rubio,
The Litter,
Black Sheep,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cluster,
a-ha,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Wire,
Matthew Bourne,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Hoover,
Neu!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brick,
The Mummies,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
The Residents,
The Durutti Column,
Sun Ra,
Fela Kuti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Basic Channel,
D'Angelo,
The Stooges,
In Retrospect,
Eli Mardock,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.