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 Vietnam and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anakelly to the disco 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Yazoo,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
the Slits,
Niagra,
The Blackbyrds,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Derrick May,
Susan Cadogan,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Germs,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Terry Callier,
Isaac Hayes,
Schoolly D,
Das Ding,
R.M.O.,
Aswad,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rakim,
The Names,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Icehouse,
Jawbox,
Magazine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Buzzcocks,
Lightning Bolt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Franke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ponytail,
Ken Boothe,
Public Enemy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
Nils Olav,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grauzone,
Lou Christie,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
Fat Boys,
Hardrive,
Sandy B,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.