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 Gabon and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Organ to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joensuu 1685,
Pere Ubu,
Graham Central Station,
Warren Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fear,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Banda Bassotti,
Schoolly D,
Moss Icon,
Liliput,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
Iggy Pop,
Spoonie Gee,
Buzzcocks,
Glenn Branca,
Marmalade,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eurythmics,
Camouflage,
Urselle,
Skriet,
The Fuzztones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Kenny Larkin,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Howard Jones,
Leonard Cohen,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Pus,
Crooked Eye,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
Oblivians,
Au Pairs,
David McCallum,
Das Ding,
Goldenarms,
Dead Boys,
The Motions,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mummies,
The Happenings,
China Crisis,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.