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 Burkina and from Accra.
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 Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Bluetip to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
LL Cool J,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Scratch Acid,
Piero Umiliani,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
Marvin Gaye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cure,
Radiohead,
New Age Steppers,
Tres Demented,
Lower 48,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Sherman,
H. Thieme,
Joensuu 1685,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Outsiders,
Technova,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
Subhumans,
Grey Daturas,
The Blackbyrds,
Cluster,
10cc,
Vainqueur,
The Fugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hardrive,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Scientists,
Angry Samoans,
Mr. Review,
Prince Buster,
The Litter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Procol Harum,
the Association,
Quadrant,
Aloha Tigers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.