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 Korea North and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Depeche Mode to the grime 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
Unwound,
Depeche Mode,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barrington Levy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sight & Sound,
Ultravox,
Aural Exciters,
Black Sheep,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grauzone,
Saccharine Trust,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Janne Schatter,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Minutemen,
Suicide,
Visage,
Howard Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
Tears for Fears,
Mo-Dettes,
Aaron Thompson,
John Holt,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warsaw,
The Moody Blues,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
48th St. Collective,
Cybotron,
LL Cool J,
Dorothy Ashby,
Con Funk Shun,
Skarface,
Donny Hathaway,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
Darondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nico,
Gang Starr,
Subhumans,
Colin Newman,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.