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 Papua New Guinea and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Derrick May to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Bill Near,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
The Techniques,
Audionom,
K-Klass,
The J.B.'s,
The Divine Comedy,
Jacques Brel,
Fear,
Gong,
The United States of America,
June Days,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lyres,
Depeche Mode,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dirtbombs,
New Order,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Thompson Twins,
Make Up,
Lucky Dragons,
One Last Wish,
Pulsallama,
Laurel Aitken,
Adolescents,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Franke,
Minny Pops,
The Associates,
Urselle,
OOIOO,
Andrew Hill,
The Moody Blues,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra,
Duran Duran,
Todd Rundgren,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Sam Rivers,
Cluster,
Eden Ahbez,
Shuggie Otis,
Lungfish,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.