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 Sweden and from Mumbai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sällskapet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joyce Sims,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Erasure,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
Mark Hollis,
The Five Americans,
The Dirtbombs,
E-Dancer,
48th St. Collective,
Quando Quango,
Cal Tjader,
The Monochrome Set,
The Red Krayola,
Black Bananas,
Archie Shepp,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fall,
Easy Going,
Don Cherry,
kango's stein massive,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
Bill Wells,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
Grandmaster Flash,
Alice Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Marshall Jefferson,
Model 500,
Nik Kershaw,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Underground Resistance,
Deadbeat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Lungfish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amazonics,
Organ,
Michelle Simonal,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cramps,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
Pet Shop Boys,
Maurizio,
Guru Guru,
Al Stewart,
Blake Baxter,
ABBA,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Holt,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.