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 Austria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the dance 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
The Fire Engines,
Basic Channel,
10cc,
Boz Scaggs,
Marine Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Flipper,
The Pretty Things,
Neu!,
Roy Ayers,
The Busters,
Peter and Kerry,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
Matthew Bourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
E-Dancer,
Sex Pistols,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
Donny Hathaway,
Freddie Wadling,
Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Tremeloes,
Khruangbin,
Wings,
The Fuzztones,
John Cale,
Outsiders,
Agitation Free,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aswad,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
The Velvet Underground,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Parrish,
Lalann,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
Eden Ahbez,
Eurythmics,
Roger Hodgson,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.