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 Grenada and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Nick Fraelich 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Arab on Radar,
Joyce Sims,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Inner City,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-102,
Peter and Kerry,
The Trojans,
Zero Boys,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amon Düül II,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
The Remains,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Slackers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erasure,
The Saints,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
The Smoke,
Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
Scientists,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Quantec,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Near,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eve St. Jones,
Blake Baxter,
The Music Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
Gong,
Skaos,
The Doors,
The Buckinghams,
Janne Schatter,
Visage,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.