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 Angola and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Josef K to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Trumans Water,
Heaven 17,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brothers Johnson,
Cameo,
Minor Threat,
Matthew Halsall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
Unrelated Segments,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
The Trojans,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
Infiniti,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
Livin' Joy,
The Offenders,
Quantec,
Nas,
Sällskapet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
the Association,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Mad Mike,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
UT,
The Grass Roots,
The Names,
The Knickerbockers,
The Move,
Faraquet,
Lungfish,
Soul II Soul,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Hill,
The Last Poets,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.