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 Swaziland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Desert Stars 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
The Moleskins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Bananas,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Dual Sessions,
Kenny Larkin,
Siglo XX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
Bobby Sherman,
Flash Fearless,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lalann,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Swans,
Swell Maps,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Essential Logic,
DJ Sneak,
Alton Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
A Certain Ratio,
David Bowie,
Camouflage,
China Crisis,
Steve Hackett,
Ludus,
Eric Copeland,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Animal Collective,
Erasure,
The Trojans,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare,
Lakeside,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
Theoretical Girls,
EPMD,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
AZ,
Mad Mike,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Sandy B,
Carl Craig,
Cal Tjader,
Masters at Work,
Deepchord,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
Duran Duran,
Matthew Bourne,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.