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 Kiribati and from Seoul.
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 Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter & Gordon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
Quando Quango,
FM Einheit,
Masters at Work,
Animal Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Görl,
U.S. Maple,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
Junior Murvin,
Scion,
Thee Headcoats,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yusef Lateef,
Alice Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
The Zeros,
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
kango's stein massive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yellowson,
Fat Boys,
The Index,
Thompson Twins,
The Gun Club,
John Lydon,
Man Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
The Invisible,
Los Fastidios,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Wyatt,
The Velvet Underground,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
Das Ding,
Black Moon,
The Birthday Party,
Marmalade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.