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 Belarus and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer 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 Ultimate Spinach to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Soul Sonic Force,
Groovy Waters,
Accadde A,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fad Gadget,
Anakelly,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pylon,
Eric Dolphy,
the Germs,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Görl,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
Kayak,
Newcleus,
The Fall,
Television,
Ice-T,
Wolf Eyes,
World's Most,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grey Daturas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultravox,
Brass Construction,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
Harpers Bizarre,
The American Breed,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
ABBA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Underground Resistance,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Wyatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
Toni Rubio,
The Pretty Things,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
X-101,
Porter Ricks,
The Standells,
Little Man,
Audionom,
The Stooges,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.