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 St Lucia and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cure,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
The Fuzztones,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond,
The Dirtbombs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Average White Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Ornette Coleman,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
The Gories,
X-101,
Tubeway Army,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Magma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Carl Craig,
The Durutti Column,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Can,
Gang of Four,
the Slits,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
Ludus,
The Fortunes,
Basic Channel,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Red Krayola,
The Real Kids,
Kayak,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Con Funk Shun,
The Vogues,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.