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 Panama and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the jazz 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims,
Jacob Miller,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Basic Channel,
Crash Course in Science,
Moss Icon,
The Busters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mantronix,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Smooth,
B.T. Express,
Heaven 17,
The Buckinghams,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
Liliput,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Lakeside,
AZ,
Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Young Rascals,
Television Personalities,
The Doobie Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
Black Sheep,
The Index,
Neil Young,
Severed Heads,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
The Pop Group,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
Talk Talk,
The Remains,
Leonard Cohen,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül II,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
Faraquet,
Freddie Wadling,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.