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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans,
Lindisfarne,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
Joy Division,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
Circle Jerks,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slackers,
The Five Americans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anthony Braxton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Todd Rundgren,
The Litter,
Eli Mardock,
Accadde A,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gong,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantaleimon,
Half Japanese,
Aural Exciters,
Average White Band,
Prince Buster,
Flipper,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scan 7,
Popol Vuh,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work,
the Bar-Kays,
Hardrive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Gang of Four,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roxy Music,
Suburban Knight,
Minny Pops,
Soft Cell,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ice-T,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.