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 Kosovo and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pulsallama,
The Stooges,
AZ,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Starr,
Camberwell Now,
Inner City,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Magma,
Rufus Thomas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Aural Exciters,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
World's Most,
Blossom Toes,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Slits,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Lou Christie,
Moss Icon,
Derrick May,
The Fugs,
Dennis Brown,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Music Machine,
Delta 5,
The Saints,
Stetsasonic,
Quadrant,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boz Scaggs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Franke,
Babytalk,
KRS-One,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lungfish,
Matthew Halsall,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.