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 St Lucia and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Knickerbockers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dave Gahan,
Quando Quango,
Cecil Taylor,
Crime,
cv313,
The Fortunes,
The Durutti Column,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bill Near,
Loose Ends,
Eurythmics,
Q and Not U,
Main Source,
Cymande,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gladiators,
Grauzone,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Neil Young,
Agitation Free,
Anthony Braxton,
Alphaville,
Lebanon Hanover,
John Holt,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Smog,
Spoonie Gee,
Piero Umiliani,
Au Pairs,
The Golliwogs,
Roxette,
The Leaves,
Lindisfarne,
Yaz,
A Certain Ratio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Eden Ahbez,
Quantec,
Pylon,
kango's stein massive,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.