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 Taiwan and from London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
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 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 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 Joe Smooth to the crunk 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Aswad,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fortunes,
B.T. Express,
Youth Brigade,
Tom Boy,
Oneida,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Andrew Hill,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Frankie Knuckles,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tres Demented,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Byrd,
Donald Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
10cc,
Bluetip,
Tomorrow,
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Average White Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Zeros,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Saints,
Easy Going,
Barry Ungar,
Deakin,
Toni Rubio,
The Moody Blues,
FM Einheit,
Black Flag,
Joy Division,
Black Pus,
Amon Düül II,
Aural Exciters,
June of 44,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Archie Shepp,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
L. Decosne,
The Mojo Men,
Unwound,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.