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 Malta and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bluetip,
The Invisible,
Lyres,
Harmonia,
Yaz,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
DJ Style,
Lakeside,
Inner City,
Kool Moe Dee,
Connie Case,
Crash Course in Science,
The Move,
Accadde A,
Section 25,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roxette,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Arcadia,
Arthur Verocai,
Au Pairs,
Marmalade,
Derrick Morgan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Freddie Wadling,
The Count Five,
John Lydon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bauhaus,
Basic Channel,
Sight & Sound,
Slave,
The Busters,
Lou Christie,
Livin' Joy,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
Rakim,
Junior Murvin,
Theoretical Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mars,
The Happenings,
DJ Sneak,
Dawn Penn,
Rekid,
Second Layer,
CMW,
Iggy Pop,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.