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 Norway and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 Organ to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Angry Samoans,
the Association,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
Gabor Szabo,
X-102,
Black Bananas,
The Residents,
Smog,
Whodini,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Jerry's Kids,
The Birthday Party,
The Pop Group,
DNA,
The Cure,
Bobby Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Stetsasonic,
Swell Maps,
The Modern Lovers,
Sandy B,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Funkadelic,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amazonics,
UT,
Pulsallama,
Roxy Music,
Davy DMX,
Rod Modell,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
The Mojo Men,
David McCallum,
Yusef Lateef,
Nation of Ulysses,
Desert Stars,
In Retrospect,
Hoover,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Count Five,
Godley & Creme,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.