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 the UAE and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Minny Pops to the dance 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Pantytec,
Byron Stingily,
Warsaw,
Tears for Fears,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
The Leaves,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
The Durutti Column,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
Urselle,
Angry Samoans,
Second Layer,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
The Remains,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agitation Free,
John Cale,
Intrusion,
DJ Sneak,
Nico,
Suburban Knight,
Kas Product,
Warren Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Main Source,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Supertramp,
Circle Jerks,
Hot Snakes,
B.T. Express,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arab on Radar,
Brothers Johnson,
Neil Young,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy Collins,
the Swans,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter and Kerry,
Yazoo,
Funkadelic,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.