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 Ireland and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the dance 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Smog,
Drexciya,
Gang Gang Dance,
Procol Harum,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Soft Cell,
Excepter,
LL Cool J,
The Trojans,
In Retrospect,
The Dead C,
The Sisters of Mercy,
One Last Wish,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moody Blues,
Jeru the Damaja,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
Pantaleimon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cybotron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radio Birdman,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Neon Judgement,
Dual Sessions,
Barrington Levy,
The Offenders,
Con Funk Shun,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
the Germs,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Loose Ends,
The Seeds,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reuben Wilson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fortunes,
Toni Rubio,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monolake,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.