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 Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 Kerrie Biddell to the dance 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
Shoche,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Skatalites,
Radiohead,
The J.B.'s,
The Tremeloes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
Minutemen,
Janne Schatter,
Ice-T,
Boredoms,
Joe Finger,
Mandrill,
H. Thieme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alton Ellis,
Dead Boys,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
JFA,
The Cure,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
The Leaves,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Stooges,
Fear,
Toni Rubio,
Terry Callier,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Foxx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Trumans Water,
Slick Rick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
CMW,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Can,
the Normal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wally Richardson,
Stetsasonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Jawbox,
Slave,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
Masters at Work,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.