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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
The American Breed,
Interpol,
Ultra Naté,
Ronan,
a-ha,
Animal Collective,
the Slits,
Organ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Essential Logic,
Skaos,
The Index,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Halsall,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
World's Most,
The Last Poets,
Camouflage,
The Tremeloes,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Derrick Morgan,
Bang On A Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arthur Verocai,
The Star Department,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Jesper Dahlback,
Icehouse,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.