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 Thailand and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stiv Bators to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Funky Four + One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Faraquet,
X-Ray Spex,
EPMD,
Lungfish,
Kerrie Biddell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Delta 5,
Scion,
DJ Style,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
Pulsallama,
Brand Nubian,
Section 25,
Johnny Clarke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
Minnie Riperton,
The Busters,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television Personalities,
The Mighty Diamonds,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Remains,
Easy Going,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ituana,
Ultra Naté,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sound,
Cymande,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eve St. Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deadbeat,
Heaven 17,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Eurythmics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Saints,
Scientists,
Bad Manners,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
Colin Newman,
Deakin,
Visage,
Agent Orange,
Yusef Lateef,
Amon Düül,
Theoretical Girls,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.