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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Technova to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Deadbeat,
World's Most,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dave Gahan,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Erasure,
Harmonia,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Spoonie Gee,
Lakeside,
Black Moon,
Interpol,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Matthew Halsall,
Clear Light,
Excepter,
Bill Wells,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick May,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funky Four + One,
Lightning Bolt,
a-ha,
Scion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Silicon Teens,
The Residents,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yellowson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Move,
Saccharine Trust,
Mandrill,
The Wake,
The Real Kids,
Max Romeo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joyce Sims,
Quando Quango,
Dead Boys,
Tom Boy,
Fluxion,
Alton Ellis,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
Surgeon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Al Stewart,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.