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 Costa Rica and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Darondo to the funk 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
David Axelrod,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Cybotron,
Derrick May,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Görl,
T.S.O.L.,
Warren Ellis,
Black Pus,
In Retrospect,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
Donald Byrd,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bad Manners,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
James White and The Blacks,
Fat Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Althea and Donna,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Jacques Brel,
The Beau Brummels,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hardrive,
LL Cool J,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Colin Newman,
The Blues Magoos,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
The Divine Comedy,
The Real Kids,
Moss Icon,
X-102,
Lightning Bolt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Saints,
The Sonics,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Fela Kuti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
A Certain Ratio,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.