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 San Marino and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Johnny Clarke to the rap 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Pantaleimon,
OOIOO,
Roxy Music,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Khruangbin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Bourne,
Rod Modell,
Scratch Acid,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
Main Source,
Monks,
Juan Atkins,
Joyce Sims,
DJ Style,
Urselle,
Simply Red,
Cybotron,
Qualms,
T. Rex,
Robert Görl,
Sly & The Family Stone,
kango's stein massive,
Audionom,
Quadrant,
Letta Mbulu,
Warsaw,
Barrington Levy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultravox,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Yaz,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Invisible,
a-ha,
Oblivians,
Flipper,
Maleditus Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sister Nancy,
Zero Boys,
Technova,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bauhaus,
The Standells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.