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 Mauritania and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Busters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dual Sessions,
Bootsy Collins,
Alton Ellis,
Gong,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
the Human League,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Prince Buster,
Lightning Bolt,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
X-101,
The Fuzztones,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
The Vogues,
Model 500,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang On A Can,
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
The Saints,
One Last Wish,
Ossler,
Tommy Roe,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
Swell Maps,
Bluetip,
Sexual Harrassment,
June Days,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra,
Gabor Szabo,
Eddi Front,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Hood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spoonie Gee,
Bad Manners,
Brick,
Subhumans,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Infiniti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Moody Blues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Residents,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thompson Twins,
Isaac Hayes,
Anthony Braxton,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC'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.