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 Israel and from Manchester.
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 Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terrestrial Tones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roxette,
The Birthday Party,
Eric Copeland,
Unrelated Segments,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
Al Stewart,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rekid,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Red Krayola,
Ronnie Foster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Franke,
Piero Umiliani,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Lynne,
Hashim,
Chrome,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cramps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Angels of Light,
DJ Sneak,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobbi Humphrey,
CMW,
Shoche,
Skriet,
Yusef Lateef,
Accadde A,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sarah Menescal,
Pagans,
T. Rex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
Rod Modell,
Man Parrish,
Bronski Beat,
China Crisis,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert 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.