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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Raincoats,
Danielle Patucci,
Max Romeo,
Surgeon,
Loose Ends,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
Swell Maps,
Al Stewart,
Man Eating Sloth,
Franke,
Radiohead,
Blancmange,
Organ,
Monolake,
Lucky Dragons,
Davy DMX,
Section 25,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Near,
Quando Quango,
Henry Cow,
Anthony Braxton,
The Birthday Party,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barry Ungar,
Ronnie Foster,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter & Gordon,
The Dead C,
Whodini,
Minutemen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun City Girls,
Shoche,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
Boogie Down Productions,
David McCallum,
The Kinks,
U.S. Maple,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tubeway Army,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.