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 Trinidad & Tobago and from London.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 Rhythm & Sound to the rap 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Thee Headcoats,
Shoche,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
These Immortal Souls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jacob Miller,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Little Man,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Black Dice,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Davy DMX,
Brand Nubian,
The Beau Brummels,
La Düsseldorf,
Bizarre Inc.,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Whodini,
The Associates,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric Copeland,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Bootsy Collins,
Monks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
Suicide,
DNA,
Organ,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Arcadia,
The Buckinghams,
Lungfish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cameo,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fat Boys,
Robert Görl,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
Oneida,
A Certain Ratio,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.