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 Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Five Americans to the funk 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Livin' Joy,
Joensuu 1685,
Parry Music,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hasil Adkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
Ohio Players,
Tubeway Army,
Toni Rubio,
Kayak,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Associates,
The Golliwogs,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra,
John Holt,
Tom Boy,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cymande,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
Dark Day,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dead C,
Joey Negro,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June of 44,
Yaz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Index,
Sun City Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Victims,
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
Moebius,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joy Division,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Sixth Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Walker Brothers,
The Remains,
Bootsy Collins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.