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 Sierra Leone and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Danielle Patucci to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
JFA,
Donny Hathaway,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
The Cure,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
The Busters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Niagra,
Sister Nancy,
E-Dancer,
Bill Wells,
Crispian St. Peters,
R.M.O.,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
John Cale,
Deadbeat,
a-ha,
Cymande,
The Standells,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Near,
Shoche,
Intrusion,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
Barry Ungar,
Hardrive,
Ultravox,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Count Five,
The Tremeloes,
Sex Pistols,
Scratch Acid,
the Normal,
The Divine Comedy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radio Birdman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronan,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Kool Moe Dee,
Althea and Donna,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
Lower 48,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.