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 Tuvalu and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 The Smoke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul II Soul,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deakin,
Interpol,
Drexciya,
Rites of Spring,
Inner City,
Khruangbin,
The Happenings,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
Letta Mbulu,
The Names,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
Magma,
L. Decosne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Normal,
The Cowsills,
the Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
La Düsseldorf,
Ohio Players,
The Dead C,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
Cal Tjader,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Hoover,
Fear,
China Crisis,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Sheep,
Masters at Work,
Joe Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
A Certain Ratio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Moleskins,
Simply Red,
Soulsonic Force,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.