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 Bahamas and from New York.
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 Manila and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Derrick May,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
Yellowson,
Zapp,
Smog,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lalann,
The Smoke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Los Fastidios,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
The United States of America,
Clear Light,
Average White Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rufus Thomas,
PIL,
The Beau Brummels,
Deadbeat,
Severed Heads,
Radio Birdman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Five Americans,
Mad Mike,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
Roxy Music,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
Brothers Johnson,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
OOIOO,
Lyres,
Fad Gadget,
Niagra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
the Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Barry Ungar,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
La Düsseldorf,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.