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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Gladiators to the grime 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Lyres,
Tres Demented,
The Fall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brand Nubian,
Neu!,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Hill,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Flipper,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Symarip,
OOIOO,
Metal Thangz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Malaria!,
Idris Muhammad,
The Busters,
Liliput,
June Days,
Byron Stingily,
Pierre Henry,
Eve St. Jones,
Massinfluence,
Harmonia,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick Morgan,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
H. Thieme,
Supertramp,
the Soft Cell,
The Neon Judgement,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Associates,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
Howard Jones,
Freddie Wadling,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
John Cale,
One Last Wish,
MDC,
Amon Düül,
Toni Rubio,
Godley & Creme,
Bootsy Collins,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
The Saints,
Graham Central Station,
The Litter,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.