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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Inner City to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
L. Decosne,
Pantaleimon,
Radiohead,
Man Parrish,
Roxette,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Slits,
Cameo,
Chrome,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gun Club,
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ludus,
The Music Machine,
Joey Negro,
Silicon Teens,
The Motions,
Ossler,
Angry Samoans,
Soft Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Kerri Chandler,
Das Ding,
Blancmange,
The Leaves,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tommy Roe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
Scratch Acid,
Isaac Hayes,
Intrusion,
Q and Not U,
Archie Shepp,
The Doors,
Pylon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Delta 5,
Pagans,
Wally Richardson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Excepter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Godley & Creme,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
The Toasters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Techniques,
Mars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nick Fraelich,
Half Japanese,
Barclay James Harvest,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.