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 Angola and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Average White Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
Hot Snakes,
Black Sheep,
The Real Kids,
Vainqueur,
Smog,
Juan Atkins,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sister Nancy,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
Aswad,
Oneida,
Cecil Taylor,
Spandau Ballet,
Eddi Front,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Black Pus,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moss Icon,
Janne Schatter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-101,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
The Gladiators,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scan 7,
The Tremeloes,
Patti Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Alton Ellis,
Alphaville,
Minutemen,
Circle Jerks,
The Cramps,
Rotary Connection,
the Normal,
Soft Machine,
Motorama,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
Gang Starr,
Nik Kershaw,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.