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 Indonesia and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Lou Reed to the rap 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lungfish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
Henry Cow,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Fela Kuti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rotary Connection,
Max Romeo,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dead C,
Stetsasonic,
Kenny Larkin,
Underground Resistance,
Popol Vuh,
The Last Poets,
Model 500,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
Angry Samoans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Soul II Soul,
Blancmange,
Ice-T,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-102,
Thee Headcoats,
JFA,
Chris & Cosey,
Symarip,
EPMD,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slick Rick,
Kool Moe Dee,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Neil Young,
The Martian,
Roy Ayers,
Japan,
Reuben Wilson,
Supertramp,
Spandau Ballet,
Saccharine Trust,
Hasil Adkins,
Vladislav Delay,
LL Cool J,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Moebius,
Rufus Thomas,
Pantytec,
Nik Kershaw,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.