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 Guinea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Public Enemy to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio 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 electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Model 500,
X-101,
Mars,
Jeff Mills,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Sam Rivers,
David Bowie,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Buckinghams,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
Liliput,
Thee Headcoats,
the Human League,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fortunes,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
China Crisis,
Groovy Waters,
Smog,
The Evens,
Reagan Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stereo Dub,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Camouflage,
Vladislav Delay,
Deakin,
Hoover,
Mr. Review,
Average White Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yaz,
Chrome,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fall,
Audionom,
Second Layer,
The Move,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grey Daturas,
The Dirtbombs,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
The Shadows of Knight,
The American Breed,
Peter and Kerry,
Scrapy,
Laurel Aitken,
Das Ding,
Nik Kershaw,
Jimmy McGriff,
EPMD,
The Busters,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.