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 St Lucia and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Sonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Tremeloes,
The Techniques,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Talk Talk,
LL Cool J,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
Gerry Rafferty,
Swell Maps,
Infiniti,
Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
Jawbox,
Franke,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Magazine,
Eli Mardock,
Livin' Joy,
AZ,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
FM Einheit,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bluetip,
Thompson Twins,
Scrapy,
The Modern Lovers,
Audionom,
The Gun Club,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Suburban Knight,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
Outsiders,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
Television Personalities,
KRS-One,
Josef K,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.