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 Albania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Crash Course in Science to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Negative Approach,
Gang Green,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Association,
Cameo,
Television,
Roxy Music,
Scott Walker,
Magma,
Technova,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joey Negro,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
Skarface,
Bob Dylan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Monks,
The American Breed,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
cv313,
JFA,
The Cramps,
Nico,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Davy DMX,
Underground Resistance,
Fat Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Camouflage,
Marvin Gaye,
Eve St. Jones,
a-ha,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
Sun City Girls,
Dual Sessions,
The Slackers,
Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Cluster,
The Standells,
John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MDC,
The Litter,
The Happenings,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.