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 Somalia and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Derrick May to the crunk 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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Alton Ellis,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
Carl Craig,
The Techniques,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Todd Terry,
Marvin Gaye,
Severed Heads,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Massinfluence,
Dave Gahan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scrapy,
Moss Icon,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station,
Magma,
The Count Five,
The Fortunes,
The Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quantec,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang On A Can,
The Monks,
Lindisfarne,
Skarface,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
John Holt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Prunes,
MDC,
Second Layer,
Flash Fearless,
Zero Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Supertramp,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Durutti Column,
Flipper,
Yusef Lateef,
Crime,
ABBA,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.