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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Gang of Four to the rap 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Patti Smith,
The Durutti Column,
The Dave Clark Five,
Scion,
Bush Tetras,
Arab on Radar,
Hot Snakes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scan 7,
The Dirtbombs,
kango's stein massive,
Das Ding,
Ken Boothe,
The Moody Blues,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
Skriet,
James White and The Blacks,
Dennis Brown,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry's Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Magma,
Blake Baxter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funkadelic,
Buzzcocks,
Howard Jones,
Royal Trux,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
The Buckinghams,
Drexciya,
The Mojo Men,
Ohio Players,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
JFA,
Organ,
CMW,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Urselle,
Hashim,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.