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 Austria and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Mars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Absolute Body Control,
Maleditus Sound,
Hashim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Heaven 17,
The Monks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Kinks,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
Second Layer,
Amazonics,
Sparks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Glenn Branca,
The Blackbyrds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
James White and The Blacks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
JFA,
The Leaves,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
The Blues Magoos,
Ponytail,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic,
Shuggie Otis,
Andrew Hill,
Charles Mingus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mars,
This Heat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Moon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unrelated Segments,
Popol Vuh,
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Slackers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fire Engines,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
Monolake,
Eddi Front,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Selecter,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.