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 Haiti and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the rock 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Colin Newman,
Terry Callier,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Danielle Patucci,
Kerrie Biddell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Supertramp,
Sight & Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Starr,
Gang of Four,
Deadbeat,
Buzzcocks,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül II,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gabor Szabo,
Agitation Free,
Derrick May,
Matthew Halsall,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pierre Henry,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
Siglo XX,
The Doors,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Moby Grape,
K-Klass,
Goldenarms,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers,
Fela Kuti,
EPMD,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
The Misunderstood,
Talk Talk,
Sixth Finger,
Sex Pistols,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Grey Daturas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.