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 Brazil and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 June Days to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
DJ Style,
Pierre Henry,
Massinfluence,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Almond,
Lou Reed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Khruangbin,
The Gun Club,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deepchord,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
Tres Demented,
Don Cherry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Goldenarms,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
U.S. Maple,
Black Flag,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
Piero Umiliani,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brand Nubian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Reuben Wilson,
Monks,
The Dead C,
La Düsseldorf,
The Count Five,
Masters at Work,
Technova,
Fear,
The Buckinghams,
Kool Moe Dee,
Make Up,
The Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hoover,
Bang On A Can,
Pussy Galore,
Harmonia,
The Blues Magoos,
Infiniti,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.