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 Denmark and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hardrive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Golliwogs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
The Real Kids,
ABC,
Tom Boy,
The Fuzztones,
The Evens,
Rufus Thomas,
Hoover,
Circle Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Aural Exciters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Slackers,
The Raincoats,
The Associates,
T. Rex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Sällskapet,
Thompson Twins,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Axelrod,
48th St. Collective,
The Pop Group,
Chrome,
Chris & Cosey,
FM Einheit,
kango's stein massive,
Pere Ubu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chris Corsano,
Outsiders,
Ronnie Foster,
The Moody Blues,
Make Up,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
Nico,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Sister Nancy,
Das Ding,
Donny Hathaway,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.