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 Panama and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sun Ra to the disco 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Dolphy,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Y Pants,
X-101,
Cymande,
Mark Hollis,
Goldenarms,
Matthew Halsall,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quadrant,
Darondo,
Popol Vuh,
Audionom,
Chris Corsano,
Crime,
The Gories,
Pole,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Banda Bassotti,
Arcadia,
New York Dolls,
The American Breed,
Ponytail,
Flash Fearless,
Ossler,
Black Moon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Josef K,
Dead Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grey Daturas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tubeway Army,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brass Construction,
John Lydon,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Duran Duran,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
Sparks,
Jerry's Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aloha Tigers,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.