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 Mauritania and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Pharoah Sanders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
Scratch Acid,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
Kayak,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Bourne,
the Bar-Kays,
Jawbox,
Magma,
The Walker Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultimate Spinach,
Icehouse,
The Mummies,
Aswad,
Groovy Waters,
Mark Hollis,
The Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chrome,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Buckinghams,
Roger Hodgson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Michelle Simonal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Niagra,
Pulsallama,
Vainqueur,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerri Chandler,
Eurythmics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiohead,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sex Pistols,
Wally Richardson,
Visage,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris & Cosey,
Marmalade,
Kurtis Blow,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rakim,
Schoolly D,
Sun City Girls,
Scan 7,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.