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 Nicaragua and from Madrid.
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 Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Bill Near to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
E-Dancer,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
Suburban Knight,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
KRS-One,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marvin Gaye,
F. McDonald,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kas Product,
Pharoah Sanders,
Josef K,
Groovy Waters,
Main Source,
The Invisible,
Rapeman,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
John Holt,
Crime,
Audionom,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boredoms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sight & Sound,
MC5,
The Techniques,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Jacques Brel,
The Move,
Howard Jones,
Terry Callier,
Minny Pops,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Qualms,
Parry Music,
Camouflage,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Outsiders,
Joey Negro,
Ornette Coleman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tubeway Army,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
Rotary Connection,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.