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 Cameroon and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scott Walker to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Tears for Fears,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Moon,
The J.B.'s,
the Germs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Godley & Creme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül II,
Flipper,
Half Japanese,
Clear Light,
Stetsasonic,
Y Pants,
Niagra,
Pagans,
Babytalk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Lynne,
Little Man,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
The Velvet Underground,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Moody Blues,
The Slackers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Saccharine Trust,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bill Near,
Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Junior Murvin,
Depeche Mode,
Sugar Minott,
Can,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Pus,
The Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Malaria!,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ronnie Foster,
The Offenders,
Easy Going,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mark Hollis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.