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 Egypt and from Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jacob Miller to the dance 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Los Fastidios,
Q and Not U,
Eddi Front,
Quantec,
Swans,
Tears for Fears,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Little Man,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
Isaac Hayes,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dave Clark Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Dolphy,
X-102,
Harpers Bizarre,
Silicon Teens,
Parry Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deakin,
Wally Richardson,
Harry Pussy,
Junior Murvin,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Maleditus Sound,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Slits,
Ohio Players,
Basic Channel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cameo,
The Dead C,
Magma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Half Japanese,
Newcleus,
Depeche Mode,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gun Club,
Lou Reed,
Lalann,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.