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 Chad 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kayak,
Whodini,
These Immortal Souls,
The Raincoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Cale,
Sixth Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Half Japanese,
In Retrospect,
Funkadelic,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
The Sonics,
Mantronix,
Urselle,
The Martian,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
New Age Steppers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monolake,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
Joensuu 1685,
The Smiths,
Technova,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Human League,
Duran Duran,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monks,
Yellowson,
Black Pus,
Alton Ellis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Human League,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
New York Dolls,
Derrick May,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Public Enemy,
Y Pants,
The Busters,
Shuggie Otis,
Easy Going,
Sex Pistols,
Country Teasers,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.