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 Iceland and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rapeman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Bill Wells,
Howard Jones,
PIL,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
Simply Red,
OOIOO,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quantec,
The Standells,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
Crash Course in Science,
Boz Scaggs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Almond,
China Crisis,
Cymande,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Crime,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
T.S.O.L.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cal Tjader,
E-Dancer,
The Techniques,
Tommy Roe,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
Faraquet,
Swans,
Moby Grape,
Loose Ends,
The Selecter,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Blancmange,
Zero Boys,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
Dawn Penn,
Grauzone,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rosa Yemen,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.