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 South Sudan 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Gap Band to the techno 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy Collins,
Amon Düül,
Grauzone,
Pierre Henry,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
Q65,
Pharoah Sanders,
KRS-One,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Cameo,
Technova,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Black Dice,
Masters at Work,
ABC,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter and Kerry,
Ohio Players,
Hasil Adkins,
Funky Four + One,
the Slits,
David Bowie,
PIL,
Average White Band,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aural Exciters,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
Slick Rick,
Whodini,
JFA,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neu!,
Livin' Joy,
Youth Brigade,
Agitation Free,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Toasters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swell Maps,
Underground Resistance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brothers Johnson,
Alton Ellis,
Graham Central Station,
Dennis Brown,
Fluxion,
cv313,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeru the Damaja,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sex Pistols,
The Dead C,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
UT,
Fad Gadget,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.