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 Hungary and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Niagra,
CMW,
The Young Rascals,
DNA,
Eve St. Jones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
Warren Ellis,
Motorama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Negative Approach,
Pantytec,
The Doors,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grauzone,
The American Breed,
Cecil Taylor,
The Motions,
Prince Buster,
Royal Trux,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Talk Talk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Association,
Dave Gahan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cowsills,
Todd Rundgren,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Youth Brigade,
The Saints,
Blossom Toes,
Lindisfarne,
Fatback Band,
Supertramp,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Parrish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wire,
Maurizio,
Parry Music,
Pussy Galore,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Echospace,
Camberwell Now,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.