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 Turkey and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 The Zeros to the grunge 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Marc Almond,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mission of Burma,
The Selecter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Darondo,
June of 44,
The Searchers,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
cv313,
Dark Day,
Aaron Thompson,
the Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Audionom,
Circle Jerks,
The Smiths,
Cal Tjader,
Ice-T,
Y Pants,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nik Kershaw,
The Motions,
CMW,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Sherman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Leaves,
Wings,
The Happenings,
Unrelated Segments,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Hood,
Lalann,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Copeland,
Dave Gahan,
Negative Approach,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter & Gordon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Blackbyrds,
Al Stewart,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.