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 Bangladesh and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Robert Hood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Marcia Griffiths,
E-Dancer,
KRS-One,
Letta Mbulu,
Fatback Band,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Television,
The Cramps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quantec,
The Index,
Bronski Beat,
Thompson Twins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispy Ambulance,
D'Angelo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
48th St. Collective,
Fad Gadget,
Depeche Mode,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Q and Not U,
kango's stein massive,
Gang of Four,
Rakim,
Moss Icon,
The Smoke,
New York Dolls,
AZ,
Delta 5,
Porter Ricks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soft Cell,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
T. Rex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
CMW,
Ten City,
One Last Wish,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Harmonia,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.