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 Cuba and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Misunderstood 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Slits,
Radiohead,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Duran Duran,
Sällskapet,
Idris Muhammad,
Roxette,
Index,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
The Flesh Eaters,
Procol Harum,
The Techniques,
The Beau Brummels,
X-Ray Spex,
X-102,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
The J.B.'s,
Aaron Thompson,
Average White Band,
Don Cherry,
Los Fastidios,
Rosa Yemen,
Freddie Wadling,
cv313,
Lightning Bolt,
48th St. Collective,
Alton Ellis,
The Star Department,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rapeman,
Smog,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
In Retrospect,
Susan Cadogan,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio,
UT,
Bronski Beat,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
The Remains,
Stiv Bators,
John Cale,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fugs,
New Age Steppers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pagans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Howard Jones,
Blake Baxter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.