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 Ghana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sound Behaviour record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pulsallama,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moleskins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swans,
Young Marble Giants,
John Lydon,
Grauzone,
Deakin,
Flash Fearless,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
The Real Kids,
Ohio Players,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skaos,
the Germs,
The Fugs,
Surgeon,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
Josef K,
Piero Umiliani,
Motorama,
The Dead C,
Cecil Taylor,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Second Layer,
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Kayak,
The Barracudas,
Rekid,
Sex Pistols,
Warren Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agitation Free,
Andrew Hill,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
In Retrospect,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camberwell Now,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Roxy Music,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.