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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin 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 Blake Baxter to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Todd Rundgren,
The Slackers,
Nils Olav,
Gichy Dan,
The Saints,
the Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Blackbyrds,
Darondo,
the Association,
The Move,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Groovy Waters,
Laurel Aitken,
Morten Harket,
The Pop Group,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Ituana,
Brand Nubian,
Mandrill,
Magma,
Pagans,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
FM Einheit,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Christie,
One Last Wish,
Fear,
Infiniti,
David Axelrod,
Dark Day,
The Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arthur Verocai,
Excepter,
Althea and Donna,
Sixth Finger,
Chrome,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.