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 Serbia and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 The Seeds to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Smoke,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
The Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vainqueur,
Rakim,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
PIL,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
Eric Dolphy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deadbeat,
Quando Quango,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Josef K,
Michelle Simonal,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cramps,
The J.B.'s,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kayak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Half Japanese,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Desert Stars,
Cymande,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mission of Burma,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Nils Olav,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Terry,
Dark Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Donny Hathaway,
The Count Five,
Dead Boys,
John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.