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 Cambodia and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
Easy Going,
The Velvet Underground,
The Monochrome Set,
The Happenings,
Man Parrish,
Al Stewart,
Tres Demented,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
cv313,
Cluster,
Robert Wyatt,
Deepchord,
Drexciya,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Zeros,
The Mummies,
Television,
Bob Dylan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The United States of America,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Moody Blues,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soul Sonic Force,
Danielle Patucci,
kango's stein massive,
Colin Newman,
Wings,
Delon & Dalcan,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fugazi,
Oneida,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brand Nubian,
The Index,
The New Christs,
Panda Bear,
Gabor Szabo,
Section 25,
The Invisible,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
the Swans,
Nils Olav,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
Sight & Sound,
Dead Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Dark Day,
Depeche Mode,
Buzzcocks,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.