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 Andorra and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
The Dead C,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Fraelich,
The Techniques,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Wyatt,
Donny Hathaway,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Green,
Nik Kershaw,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
The Walker Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move,
Q65,
Michelle Simonal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
OOIOO,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ronan,
Chrome,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scott Walker,
China Crisis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Dark Day,
Black Pus,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
Colin Newman,
The Pretty Things,
Brand Nubian,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Das Ding,
Malaria!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.