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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 EPMD to the grunge 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Toni Rubio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Andrew Hill,
Roxy Music,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
Shoche,
Rites of Spring,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marmalade,
Leonard Cohen,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magazine,
Anthony Braxton,
Loose Ends,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Archie Shepp,
Deadbeat,
Dennis Brown,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Avey Tare,
Surgeon,
Morten Harket,
New Order,
Suburban Knight,
Radiohead,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
Sam Rivers,
Bang On A Can,
Unrelated Segments,
the Human League,
Intrusion,
Brick,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.