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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grime 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Black Bananas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fortunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alton Ellis,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
MC5,
The Last Poets,
the Association,
Unrelated Segments,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
Black Moon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
The Vogues,
Amazonics,
Hot Snakes,
Arab on Radar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bluetip,
B.T. Express,
The Gun Club,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Christie,
John Foxx,
The Seeds,
Robert Görl,
H. Thieme,
Toni Rubio,
48th St. Collective,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Buckinghams,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roger Hodgson,
Hardrive,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Groovy Waters,
Qualms,
Crooked Eye,
PIL,
Charles Mingus,
Slick Rick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.