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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angels of Light to the disco 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
Black Sheep,
The Fire Engines,
Mars,
Soft Machine,
Lower 48,
Derrick Morgan,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Fraelich,
Monolake,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Duran Duran,
Hoover,
the Sonics,
Maurizio,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
The Index,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
Ponytail,
Pet Shop Boys,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Basic Channel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
Lalann,
Crooked Eye,
Black Moon,
DJ Style,
The United States of America,
Steve Hackett,
Tres Demented,
Archie Shepp,
Todd Terry,
Tubeway Army,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Flipper,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sound Behaviour,
Swell Maps,
The Techniques,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Desert Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
X-101,
Harmonia,
Peter & Gordon,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.