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 Dominica 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the grime 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Colin Newman,
Wasted Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Can,
Junior Murvin,
Q65,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Pet Shop Boys,
World's Most,
Interpol,
Royal Trux,
Nas,
Mantronix,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Swans,
Rotary Connection,
Bob Dylan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Lindisfarne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Motions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Graham Central Station,
Television Personalities,
Shuggie Otis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camouflage,
Black Pus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funkadelic,
Darondo,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
Derrick Morgan,
Massinfluence,
EPMD,
Fat Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter & Gordon,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Grass Roots,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Index,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
Suicide,
The Modern Lovers,
Faust,
CMW,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monks,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.