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 Laos and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin 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 Kerrie Biddell to the jazz 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Barracudas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Real Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
World's Most,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Ice-T,
Hardrive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Invisible,
Smog,
The New Christs,
Fad Gadget,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Moon,
Sällskapet,
Warsaw,
Reagan Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Fugazi,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zapp,
Echospace,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacob Miller,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
Anakelly,
Stetsasonic,
Blake Baxter,
Neil Young,
the Human League,
The Trojans,
Glenn Branca,
Con Funk Shun,
James Chance & The Contortions,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yellowson,
Gong,
Goldenarms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Traffic Nightmare,
D'Angelo,
Carl Craig,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.