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 Georgia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
The J.B.'s,
L. Decosne,
Organ,
Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
Yusef Lateef,
Joensuu 1685,
Q and Not U,
Infiniti,
Delta 5,
The Saints,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kurtis Blow,
Blossom Toes,
B.T. Express,
Pussy Galore,
Kerrie Biddell,
Steve Hackett,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Görl,
Lyres,
Interpol,
The Skatalites,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
John Lydon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Camberwell Now,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Carl Craig,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unrelated Segments,
The Barracudas,
Magazine,
Deakin,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
T.S.O.L.,
Popol Vuh,
Eli Mardock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Groovy Waters,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.