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 Belgium and from Jakarta.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Marc Almond to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Doors,
Monks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Saints,
Fatback Band,
Skaos,
The Fortunes,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Underground Resistance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marshall Jefferson,
Darondo,
Kas Product,
Radio Birdman,
Metal Thangz,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiohead,
Erasure,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Selecter,
MDC,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
Ronan,
Ludus,
The Kinks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Supertramp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Trumans Water,
Newcleus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scientists,
Idris Muhammad,
Blancmange,
Franke,
Technova,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
Siglo XX,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Moleskins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bronski Beat,
The Mummies,
ABBA,
Juan Atkins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Bowie,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.