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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
The Detroit Cobras,
B.T. Express,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camouflage,
T.S.O.L.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
Qualms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fluxion,
Fatback Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Funky Four + One,
AZ,
The Slits,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dual Sessions,
New Age Steppers,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minutemen,
Country Teasers,
Thompson Twins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Foxx,
The Five Americans,
The New Christs,
Scion,
Fad Gadget,
Kayak,
Fear,
Leonard Cohen,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Sherman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Infiniti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dead Boys,
MDC,
JFA,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Guru Guru,
Swell Maps,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Lydon,
Tomorrow,
Wasted Youth,
Funkadelic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
LL Cool J,
DJ Style,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.