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 Kazakhstan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 Eddi Front to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Patti Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Smog,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fuzztones,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
Susan Cadogan,
Soulsonic Force,
Toni Rubio,
The Divine Comedy,
Nico,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Johnny Clarke,
Index,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fad Gadget,
Absolute Body Control,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monks,
Sällskapet,
Tubeway Army,
The Residents,
Black Bananas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Babytalk,
the Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
Lungfish,
Shuggie Otis,
Malaria!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young,
Eurythmics,
Dennis Brown,
John Coltrane,
The Dead C,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Parrish,
Chrome,
Rotary Connection,
Motorama,
The Litter,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Moody Blues,
Roxette,
Ponytail,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.