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 Uganda and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
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 linndrum 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 This Heat to the funk 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Whodini,
Royal Trux,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Echospace,
Joe Smooth,
Mantronix,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
The Mummies,
Livin' Joy,
Funkadelic,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Christie,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun City Girls,
Underground Resistance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Todd Terry,
Skriet,
Fugazi,
Wolf Eyes,
Archie Shepp,
PIL,
Sonny Sharrock,
Freddie Wadling,
Parry Music,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Popol Vuh,
Jandek,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arcadia,
Bizarre Inc.,
CMW,
a-ha,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anakelly,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Half Japanese,
Mo-Dettes,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
cv313,
Janne Schatter,
Gang of Four,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.