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 Brunei and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Harpers Bizarre to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Howard Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Soul Sonic Force,
Y Pants,
Joyce Sims,
The Index,
The Neon Judgement,
Joey Negro,
Wally Richardson,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo,
Section 25,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boredoms,
The Blues Magoos,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Simply Red,
Black Sheep,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Sun Ra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Khruangbin,
Toni Rubio,
the Normal,
Andrew Hill,
David McCallum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Warsaw,
Ituana,
Bluetip,
The Moleskins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeff Mills,
Lyres,
Blossom Toes,
Yusef Lateef,
Youth Brigade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
DJ Style,
Banda Bassotti,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Machine,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.