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 Zambia and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Black Bananas to the electroclash 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Aaron Thompson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sugar Minott,
Michelle Simonal,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
The Names,
Bad Manners,
Quadrant,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
The Gap Band,
Bob Dylan,
Bronski Beat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
CMW,
Boredoms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul II Soul,
DNA,
Zero Boys,
MC5,
Roxette,
Kenny Larkin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pole,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Age Steppers,
the Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
The American Breed,
One Last Wish,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fortunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sun Ra,
Black Moon,
R.M.O.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gong,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.