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 Namibia and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the grime 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
The Toasters,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronnie Foster,
John Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tres Demented,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
ABC,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
Kevin Saunderson,
The United States of America,
Terrestrial Tones,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
Swell Maps,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
MC5,
Aswad,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
Angry Samoans,
DJ Style,
Throbbing Gristle,
In Retrospect,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick Morgan,
Leonard Cohen,
Laurel Aitken,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Agent Orange,
One Last Wish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Tears for Fears,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Anakelly,
Yazoo,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Wake,
Cameo,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Judy Mowatt,
Siglo XX,
Soft Cell,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.