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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the rock 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Normal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
Outsiders,
Joyce Sims,
Eric Copeland,
Malaria!,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Spoonie Gee,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flash Fearless,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
Gang Starr,
Ornette Coleman,
Icehouse,
Archie Shepp,
Joey Negro,
Skarface,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
The Busters,
Monolake,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
Fluxion,
Youth Brigade,
The Young Rascals,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Franke,
Jeff Lynne,
The Tremeloes,
Von Mondo,
Circle Jerks,
Henry Cow,
Robert Hood,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
The Barracudas,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
Grauzone,
Skriet,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.