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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Idris Muhammad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Matthew Halsall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lungfish,
Kurtis Blow,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacques Brel,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
Q and Not U,
Unrelated Segments,
Unwound,
Chris & Cosey,
X-Ray Spex,
Vladislav Delay,
Pussy Galore,
Nirvana,
Television Personalities,
Rapeman,
B.T. Express,
Qualms,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Names,
Marvin Gaye,
Technova,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
Make Up,
The New Christs,
Marc Almond,
kango's stein massive,
Josef K,
The Count Five,
Rotary Connection,
Camouflage,
Crime,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marcia Griffiths,
Franke,
T. Rex,
KRS-One,
Eurythmics,
The Saints,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
China Crisis,
Ohio Players,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quantec,
Blancmange,
Circle Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bill Wells,
Tommy Roe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.