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 Syria and from London.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the sitar 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 K-Klass to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warsaw,
Joensuu 1685,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Lyres,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Style,
Aloha Tigers,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Copeland,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dennis Brown,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
The Index,
Max Romeo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ituana,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amon Düül II,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Intrusion,
Neil Young,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Yusef Lateef,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
The Motions,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.