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 Gambia and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Marmalade,
Robert Görl,
Crime,
The Mummies,
Anakelly,
The Last Poets,
The Birthday Party,
Hasil Adkins,
Harmonia,
Talk Talk,
Absolute Body Control,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
Hot Snakes,
Josef K,
Stereo Dub,
Con Funk Shun,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mission of Burma,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Toni Rubio,
Sister Nancy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
Organ,
MDC,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
The Fugs,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
Zero Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Rufus Thomas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronan,
Iggy Pop,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dark Day,
Thompson Twins,
Spandau Ballet,
Barrington Levy,
Jerry's Kids,
Smog,
Pantytec,
Aaron Thompson,
Rakim,
Severed Heads,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.