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 Finland and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Donald Byrd to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
DNA,
Sun City Girls,
Shoche,
Johnny Osbourne,
Underground Resistance,
Fela Kuti,
The Techniques,
Goldenarms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Durutti Column,
The J.B.'s,
Black Pus,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
Amon Düül II,
Funky Four + One,
John Lydon,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gories,
Reuben Wilson,
Yazoo,
OOIOO,
The Misunderstood,
The Selecter,
The Beau Brummels,
Minor Threat,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bad Manners,
the Soft Cell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Michelle Simonal,
Heaven 17,
Infiniti,
Animal Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Joy Division,
Loose Ends,
Harmonia,
the Slits,
Ken Boothe,
Chris & Cosey,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Stooges,
Vainqueur,
Bauhaus,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sonics,
Fugazi,
Lucky Dragons,
Bob Dylan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.