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 Bulgaria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the techno 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Bill Near,
The Five Americans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skarface,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fluxion,
The Monochrome Set,
The Zeros,
Royal Trux,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Beau Brummels,
Hot Snakes,
Swans,
The Angels of Light,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Trojans,
Tommy Roe,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Rotary Connection,
Quando Quango,
Brick,
Spoonie Gee,
Adolescents,
Tomorrow,
Wings,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pantaleimon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Make Up,
Brass Construction,
Al Stewart,
Lower 48,
Eden Ahbez,
Faust,
June of 44,
The Litter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gong,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.