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 Djibouti and from Bologna.
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 Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 June Days to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxette,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boogie Down Productions,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
Visage,
Ronan,
Subhumans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
kango's stein massive,
The Litter,
Jandek,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Halsall,
The Sound,
Vainqueur,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
KRS-One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Average White Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris & Cosey,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
Deakin,
Janne Schatter,
Soft Machine,
The Cowsills,
Aswad,
This Heat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pere Ubu,
Maurizio,
AZ,
Bill Wells,
Warsaw,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sandy B,
Godley & Creme,
R.M.O.,
The Move,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ponytail,
Black Bananas,
Sonic Youth,
the Slits,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.