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 Egypt and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Babytalk,
Mr. Review,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siglo XX,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
The Fuzztones,
Yazoo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blake Baxter,
Pulsallama,
Gichy Dan,
Rod Modell,
Funky Four + One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Skriet,
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
Chris & Cosey,
Pierre Henry,
Liliput,
Depeche Mode,
The Selecter,
Royal Trux,
The Gladiators,
It's A Beautiful Day,
A Certain Ratio,
In Retrospect,
Excepter,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Near,
Minor Threat,
Motorama,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blancmange,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
The Smoke,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
Scion,
Agitation Free,
Rhythm & Sound,
June of 44,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Niagra,
Little Man,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun City Girls,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.