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 Latvia and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Section 25,
Schoolly D,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
The Monks,
Patti Smith,
The Beau Brummels,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fear,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deepchord,
Marine Girls,
Technova,
Matthew Bourne,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids,
Don Cherry,
Scan 7,
Mr. Review,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scott Walker,
Shuggie Otis,
Arthur Verocai,
New York Dolls,
Max Romeo,
Thee Headcoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Silicon Teens,
Siglo XX,
Cymande,
Camberwell Now,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ludus,
Junior Murvin,
Essential Logic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Echospace,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gap Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nico,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.