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 Haiti and from Columbus.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Girls At Our Best! to the dance 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
The Dirtbombs,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens,
Mo-Dettes,
Crime,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Kaleidoscope,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Procol Harum,
EPMD,
Little Man,
Aural Exciters,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
Funky Four + One,
Dennis Brown,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Barracudas,
Technova,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Teasers,
Rotary Connection,
Bad Manners,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Dorothy Ashby,
Von Mondo,
Minnie Riperton,
Stiv Bators,
Basic Channel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eli Mardock,
Juan Atkins,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flash Fearless,
Scion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nick Fraelich,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oneida,
Absolute Body Control,
The Human League,
Ponytail,
Saccharine Trust,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.