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 Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zero Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shuggie Otis,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
Siglo XX,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yellowson,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Magma,
Fad Gadget,
La Düsseldorf,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
Circle Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Metal Thangz,
X-Ray Spex,
The Kinks,
The Invisible,
Q and Not U,
The Fugs,
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
The Searchers,
Glenn Branca,
The Alarm Clocks,
Au Pairs,
Aural Exciters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angry Samoans,
Rites of Spring,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
Sister Nancy,
the Bar-Kays,
Wolf Eyes,
10cc,
Depeche Mode,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gichy Dan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Red Krayola,
The Cramps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kas Product,
Lebanon Hanover,
Funkadelic,
The Gladiators,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
The Smoke,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.