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 Israel and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 48th St. Collective to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Lungfish,
The Fire Engines,
Terrestrial Tones,
Urselle,
The Happenings,
U.S. Maple,
Maurizio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
The Birthday Party,
Bob Dylan,
The Gun Club,
The Leaves,
Brick,
Minny Pops,
Amon Düül II,
Al Stewart,
Sixth Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Tubeway Army,
The Modern Lovers,
Quadrant,
Franke,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
Altered Images,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
UT,
Excepter,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
the Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Aswad,
Spandau Ballet,
Judy Mowatt,
The Buckinghams,
The Five Americans,
the Slits,
Sandy B,
Newcleus,
Stiv Bators,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Dolphy,
The Offenders,
Dawn Penn,
Talk Talk,
Rod Modell,
Warren Ellis,
Warsaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boredoms,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
David Axelrod,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.