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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 David Bowie 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 Patti Smith to the disco 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Oblivians,
New Age Steppers,
Sandy B,
Mr. Review,
UT,
Sun Ra,
Ohio Players,
Motorama,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Liliput,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Real Kids,
Ultra Naté,
JFA,
Eli Mardock,
KRS-One,
Rotary Connection,
The Velvet Underground,
Bluetip,
Model 500,
Ice-T,
Quadrant,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Sherman,
Dark Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nico,
Boredoms,
Visage,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Can,
Zapp,
Pierre Henry,
Theoretical Girls,
Tommy Roe,
The Selecter,
Half Japanese,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band,
Gong,
ABBA,
Babytalk,
The Vogues,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Hood,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minnie Riperton,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
The American Breed,
The Gun Club,
Warren Ellis,
Gang of Four,
Television,
Basic Channel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Duran Duran,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.