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 Colombia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 theremin 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 Brick 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Tubeway Army,
Fad Gadget,
Zero Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists,
John Holt,
K-Klass,
Yellowson,
Ultravox,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stetsasonic,
The Last Poets,
Fear,
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pere Ubu,
Terry Callier,
Porter Ricks,
Flash Fearless,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
the Association,
Public Enemy,
Amazonics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
The Associates,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
Nirvana,
Cameo,
Jerry's Kids,
Rekid,
Model 500,
Franke,
Joe Smooth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Gun Club,
Yazoo,
Iggy Pop,
U.S. Maple,
Connie Case,
Jacob Miller,
The Stooges,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
Quando Quango,
Carl Craig,
Wally Richardson,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.