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 Ghana and from Johannesburg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grunge 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Agitation Free,
Rakim,
The Fortunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Juan Atkins,
Eric Copeland,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Arcadia,
The Doors,
The Buckinghams,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lakeside,
John Coltrane,
Joy Division,
Ronan,
Y Pants,
La Düsseldorf,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
The New Christs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grey Daturas,
Scratch Acid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Aswad,
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Gong,
Eric B and Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
DJ Sneak,
Bootsy Collins,
The Angels of Light,
The Birthday Party,
Godley & Creme,
Scientists,
Half Japanese,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.