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 United States and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Henry Cow to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Ludus,
Charles Mingus,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ice-T,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter and Kerry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Cure,
Rites of Spring,
Cecil Taylor,
Kenny Larkin,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Television,
The Sonics,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Janne Schatter,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
Todd Rundgren,
Banda Bassotti,
MC5,
Royal Trux,
Man Parrish,
World's Most,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Knickerbockers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Move,
Harmonia,
In Retrospect,
Brass Construction,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-101,
Dave Gahan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tomorrow,
Aaron Thompson,
Fela Kuti,
Skarface,
The Residents,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Kinks,
The American Breed,
Deadbeat,
Soulsonic Force,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sound Behaviour,
Fugazi,
Con Funk Shun,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Parry Music,
Gang Green,
the Normal,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.