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 Liberia and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Lower 48,
Underground Resistance,
Essential Logic,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
Robert Wyatt,
Subhumans,
Todd Rundgren,
R.M.O.,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
Magma,
MDC,
Black Pus,
Jacob Miller,
Loose Ends,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Babytalk,
Maleditus Sound,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
cv313,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Davy DMX,
Don Cherry,
Pole,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Das Ding,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pierre Henry,
Sam Rivers,
K-Klass,
Funkadelic,
The Blackbyrds,
Y Pants,
Nas,
MC5,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
Royal Trux,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Victims,
Blancmange,
Audionom,
Tom Boy,
Desert Stars,
the Association,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Foxx,
Delta 5,
Patti Smith,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.