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 Brunei and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Victims to the funk 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
48th St. Collective,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
Ultravox,
Terry Callier,
Max Romeo,
Prince Buster,
The Selecter,
Magma,
Agitation Free,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
U.S. Maple,
Cheater Slicks,
Oneida,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
Saccharine Trust,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
China Crisis,
Sugar Minott,
Infiniti,
The Red Krayola,
Organ,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echospace,
Bill Near,
Dark Day,
Blossom Toes,
Kaleidoscope,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
The J.B.'s,
Popol Vuh,
Nation of Ulysses,
H. Thieme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
The Vogues,
Excepter,
The Cowsills,
Shoche,
CMW,
Agent Orange,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.