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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Quando Quango to the electroclash 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marc Almond,
The Fall,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Robert Wyatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Talk Talk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mars,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
The Cowsills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Reuben Wilson,
Marmalade,
Roy Ayers,
Radiohead,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quadrant,
Connie Case,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
JFA,
Faraquet,
Agent Orange,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Todd Terry,
Derrick Morgan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bill Near,
Q and Not U,
Shuggie Otis,
Anakelly,
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
Chrome,
Brand Nubian,
Boredoms,
the Germs,
Chris Corsano,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deakin,
Model 500,
Scratch Acid,
R.M.O.,
Severed Heads,
Minnie Riperton,
a-ha,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.