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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Roy Ayers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lungfish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Isaac Hayes,
The Techniques,
The Gap Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Subhumans,
Tommy Roe,
Dennis Brown,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Urselle,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Drive Like Jehu,
This Heat,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blancmange,
David Bowie,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Infiniti,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Pierre Henry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bauhaus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kurtis Blow,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
The Wake,
The Count Five,
10cc,
Von Mondo,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
Nik Kershaw,
Joyce Sims,
The Mummies,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
E-Dancer,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Goldenarms,
Roger Hodgson,
Mantronix,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.