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 Seychelles and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Los Fastidios to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Joensuu 1685,
Duran Duran,
R.M.O.,
Basic Channel,
Idris Muhammad,
Archie Shepp,
Swans,
The American Breed,
Mo-Dettes,
B.T. Express,
The Cramps,
Public Enemy,
Tom Boy,
Rufus Thomas,
Youth Brigade,
Von Mondo,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ken Boothe,
X-101,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy,
Yusef Lateef,
Pierre Henry,
Nils Olav,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls,
Al Stewart,
the Slits,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
Fela Kuti,
Organ,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
Suburban Knight,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
Underground Resistance,
Yazoo,
Section 25,
Henry Cow,
World's Most,
Flash Fearless,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.