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 Switzerland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 Soft Cell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Surgeon,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
Popol Vuh,
Reagan Youth,
The Moody Blues,
Malaria!,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
E-Dancer,
World's Most,
Absolute Body Control,
Scratch Acid,
Donald Byrd,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Christie,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker,
Severed Heads,
Mission of Burma,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heaven 17,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The New Christs,
Arcadia,
Kenny Larkin,
Brick,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Almond,
Unwound,
Roxy Music,
Al Stewart,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Faraquet,
Moebius,
Piero Umiliani,
Archie Shepp,
Stereo Dub,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Nas,
Eddi Front,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slackers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
Theoretical Girls,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.