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 Zimbabwe and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Brothers Johnson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pagans,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smoke,
Kenny Larkin,
The Velvet Underground,
Absolute Body Control,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
June Days,
Gang of Four,
Second Layer,
The Associates,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
a-ha,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Swell Maps,
Man Eating Sloth,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fugs,
Index,
Deakin,
Skarface,
Can,
Negative Approach,
Flipper,
Ten City,
Susan Cadogan,
Cluster,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
The Real Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rites of Spring,
The Angels of Light,
Ultravox,
Porter Ricks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.