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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Banda Bassotti to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MDC,
Gabor Szabo,
Marc Almond,
The Velvet Underground,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
The Gladiators,
Absolute Body Control,
Inner City,
Mad Mike,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Barry Ungar,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang On A Can,
The Buckinghams,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thompson Twins,
The United States of America,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Brass Construction,
Lalo Schifrin,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pantytec,
Maleditus Sound,
Ponytail,
Joensuu 1685,
H. Thieme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
ABC,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scrapy,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
CMW,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erasure,
Wolf Eyes,
Magazine,
Simply Red,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rhythm & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Organ,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.