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 Serbia and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the techno 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Deakin,
John Holt,
T. Rex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monochrome Set,
A Flock of Seagulls,
K-Klass,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Monolake,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed,
Visage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dorothy Ashby,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
the Association,
Qualms,
David Axelrod,
David McCallum,
The Sound,
Black Flag,
Aural Exciters,
Toni Rubio,
The Remains,
Roxette,
Marvin Gaye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Piero Umiliani,
Iggy Pop,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeff Lynne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Byrd,
Section 25,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
Chris & Cosey,
MC5,
Juan Atkins,
Leonard Cohen,
Neu!,
the Slits,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.