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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Halsall to the crunk 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
One Last Wish,
Lungfish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yaz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marcia Griffiths,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Leonard Cohen,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Pulsallama,
Warsaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
H. Thieme,
Brass Construction,
Sexual Harrassment,
Underground Resistance,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
Trumans Water,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
Mission of Burma,
Donald Byrd,
the Human League,
The Selecter,
Gerry Rafferty,
World's Most,
Amon Düül,
Outsiders,
Hardrive,
The Misunderstood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Surgeon,
A Certain Ratio,
Grauzone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arcadia,
Section 25,
The Dirtbombs,
Monks,
The Standells,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.