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 Nigeria and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sun Ra to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Rosa Yemen,
Groovy Waters,
Bush Tetras,
The Trojans,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quadrant,
Marvin Gaye,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cure,
the Bar-Kays,
Frankie Knuckles,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Almond,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
Darondo,
Al Stewart,
The Leaves,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Eden Ahbez,
Sandy B,
The Five Americans,
Vladislav Delay,
Mo-Dettes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Procol Harum,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grauzone,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric Copeland,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Fear,
Harpers Bizarre,
Oneida,
Zapp,
Underground Resistance,
Spandau Ballet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Los Fastidios,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.