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 Bahamas and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Dirtbombs to the jazz 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Cramps,
Theoretical Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Animal Collective,
AZ,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Franke,
ABC,
Sonic Youth,
Harmonia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kool Moe Dee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Green,
Fear,
Sun Ra,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Sällskapet,
The Mojo Men,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dead C,
Yazoo,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Nas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bizarre Inc.,
MC5,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
Minor Threat,
Gichy Dan,
Hoover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Spoonie Gee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
Anthony Braxton,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Depeche Mode,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Angry Samoans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donny Hathaway,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.