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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer 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 Boogie Down Productions to the crunk 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
U.S. Maple,
Radio Birdman,
The Motions,
The Gladiators,
MC5,
Kurtis Blow,
AZ,
Average White Band,
Deepchord,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Can,
Lou Christie,
Khruangbin,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
Godley & Creme,
Joensuu 1685,
Youth Brigade,
The Doors,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Silicon Teens,
Tommy Roe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tears for Fears,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Yaz,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
Cameo,
Theoretical Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Eden Ahbez,
Eric Dolphy,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
Whodini,
Camberwell Now,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding,
The Standells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.