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 Qatar and from Glasgow.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Quando Quango to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
Urselle,
X-102,
Banda Bassotti,
MDC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brothers Johnson,
David Bowie,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
John Holt,
The Birthday Party,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
the Human League,
Newcleus,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Eric Copeland,
Henry Cow,
Scientists,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ponytail,
New Age Steppers,
Infiniti,
Joey Negro,
Lou Christie,
The Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doors,
Cymande,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
Michelle Simonal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fluxion,
Kenny Larkin,
Magma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
H. Thieme,
Interpol,
The Motions,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sister Nancy,
The Zeros,
Crooked Eye,
Chris & Cosey,
the Swans,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oblivians,
kango's stein massive,
Buzzcocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.