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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
FM Einheit,
Don Cherry,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
The Invisible,
Sonic Youth,
Visage,
Delta 5,
Malaria!,
Fugazi,
Erykah Badu,
Interpol,
Lou Reed,
Schoolly D,
Animal Collective,
Agitation Free,
Sonny Sharrock,
Inner City,
Quando Quango,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dave Gahan,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Dolphy,
Camberwell Now,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nas,
Masters at Work,
Supertramp,
The Slackers,
Lower 48,
the Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Technova,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angry Samoans,
Erasure,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.