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 San Marino and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grime 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Carl Craig,
The Walker Brothers,
Blossom Toes,
Pantaleimon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Remains,
Tim Buckley,
OOIOO,
Jeru the Damaja,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blues Magoos,
Technova,
D'Angelo,
Fear,
Althea and Donna,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erasure,
The Mummies,
Minor Threat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Blake Baxter,
Altered Images,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
The Blackbyrds,
The Invisible,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
The Vogues,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
The J.B.'s,
cv313,
Sparks,
X-101,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Circle Jerks,
Saccharine Trust,
Slave,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minny Pops,
Wasted Youth,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
Bronski Beat,
Brothers Johnson,
Pussy Galore,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.