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 Zimbabwe and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco 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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
Brick,
F. McDonald,
Janne Schatter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
cv313,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
Visage,
UT,
Anakelly,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
Funkadelic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Blossom Toes,
Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Television Personalities,
The Move,
MDC,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Guru Guru,
Sällskapet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Halsall,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
David McCallum,
Black Moon,
Ponytail,
Stetsasonic,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ice-T,
Thompson Twins,
Echospace,
Darondo,
The Zeros,
Charles Mingus,
Hardrive,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.