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 Mauritania and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Yazoo,
The Divine Comedy,
Make Up,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick May,
Gregory Isaacs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bauhaus,
This Heat,
Judy Mowatt,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Lyres,
the Slits,
Hashim,
The Saints,
Mission of Burma,
Juan Atkins,
Royal Trux,
Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mo-Dettes,
Underground Resistance,
Erykah Badu,
Reagan Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
Surgeon,
Black Moon,
The Velvet Underground,
Johnny Clarke,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swell Maps,
Gang Green,
Camouflage,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Starr,
Gabor Szabo,
Easy Going,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
Blancmange,
Metal Thangz,
The Happenings,
The Durutti Column,
Lakeside,
Clear Light,
The Move,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.