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 Philippines and from Accra.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Eddi Front,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse,
Kas Product,
Archie Shepp,
The Count Five,
Excepter,
Cybotron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fad Gadget,
Porter Ricks,
Metal Thangz,
Roxette,
Scrapy,
Q65,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Divine Comedy,
Tubeway Army,
Mandrill,
Henry Cow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Human League,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lakeside,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aloha Tigers,
Animal Collective,
John Cale,
The Litter,
Zapp,
The Victims,
the Normal,
The Human League,
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blancmange,
The Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
The Neon Judgement,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Star Department,
Carl Craig,
Sparks,
Pierre Henry,
Alice Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Kinks,
Easy Going,
Crime,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Wally Richardson,
Hashim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.