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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Names to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
The Tremeloes,
Ten City,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gun Club,
Mad Mike,
Peter & Gordon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
K-Klass,
Man Parrish,
T. Rex,
Lightning Bolt,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun City Girls,
Royal Trux,
Clear Light,
Sugar Minott,
Pantytec,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
La Düsseldorf,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Michelle Simonal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gories,
The Last Poets,
Livin' Joy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Radiohead,
Joy Division,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Remains,
Lalann,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy Collins,
Maurizio,
Sister Nancy,
Anakelly,
Ossler,
Moebius,
The Birthday Party,
Yusef Lateef,
David McCallum,
Roger Hodgson,
Guru Guru,
Depeche Mode,
Agitation Free,
Quadrant,
One Last Wish,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.