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 Kazakhstan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joyce Sims to the rap 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Mo-Dettes,
Shoche,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
Rosa Yemen,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wolf Eyes,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mummies,
Vladislav Delay,
Wings,
UT,
AZ,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
Ohio Players,
kango's stein massive,
The Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
B.T. Express,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Archie Shepp,
Derrick May,
Hashim,
Nik Kershaw,
Roger Hodgson,
The Happenings,
Urselle,
The Gories,
The Golliwogs,
Pierre Henry,
Max Romeo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Lalann,
Bill Near,
Blancmange,
Depeche Mode,
CMW,
Rufus Thomas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Agitation Free,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.