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 Chad and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the dance 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Amon Düül,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Sonics,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bronski Beat,
H. Thieme,
Shuggie Otis,
The Barracudas,
Neu!,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sparks,
Patti Smith,
Dark Day,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Janne Schatter,
June Days,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
Rotary Connection,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sight & Sound,
Intrusion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Public Enemy,
The United States of America,
Black Bananas,
Henry Cow,
Tears for Fears,
Marine Girls,
the Association,
Bauhaus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young,
B.T. Express,
The Sound,
Infiniti,
Soft Machine,
Urselle,
Wings,
Silicon Teens,
Spoonie Gee,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slackers,
Easy Going,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
John Holt,
Gang Gang Dance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Technova,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
Talk Talk,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.