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 Nauru and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eddi Front to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Iggy Pop,
Arthur Verocai,
Popol Vuh,
Jerry's Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
New Order,
the Human League,
The Fuzztones,
Ituana,
Bobby Sherman,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
Japan,
Radio Birdman,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barrington Levy,
Newcleus,
Icehouse,
The Dead C,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amazonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Man Parrish,
The Mummies,
Soulsonic Force,
Moss Icon,
Don Cherry,
Joyce Sims,
The Toasters,
Roger Hodgson,
EPMD,
Section 25,
Piero Umiliani,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
Scrapy,
The Monochrome Set,
Cecil Taylor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eric Dolphy,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Darondo,
Television,
Slick Rick,
Can,
Faust,
The Invisible,
The Count Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.