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 Namibia and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantaleimon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Jeff Mills,
Boz Scaggs,
Michelle Simonal,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Bang On A Can,
Funky Four + One,
Cheater Slicks,
Radio Birdman,
The Cramps,
CMW,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Sneak,
Ponytail,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
Q65,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Dawn Penn,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Thompson Twins,
Suburban Knight,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana,
Lucky Dragons,
Youth Brigade,
Technova,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
Half Japanese,
The Golliwogs,
Sixth Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Main Source,
Bill Near,
The Birthday Party,
The Moody Blues,
Grauzone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Rites of Spring,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.