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 Comoros and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 China Crisis to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Jerry's Kids,
Gong,
Minor Threat,
Zero Boys,
Max Romeo,
Todd Terry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Clear Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Henry Cow,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Ossler,
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Con Funk Shun,
The Knickerbockers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Lalann,
Accadde A,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Interpol,
Fela Kuti,
Banda Bassotti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
Be Bop Deluxe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Anakelly,
Deadbeat,
New Order,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Copeland,
Buzzcocks,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Rosa Yemen,
B.T. Express,
Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arab on Radar,
Moss Icon,
Index,
Rod Modell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.