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 Nigeria and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Real Kids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
Roxette,
Nils Olav,
Niagra,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
Theoretical Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Skriet,
The Residents,
Bauhaus,
Franke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Popol Vuh,
Yusef Lateef,
Juan Atkins,
Roxy Music,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gap Band,
The Angels of Light,
Subhumans,
Wolf Eyes,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
Joe Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Durutti Column,
The Monochrome Set,
Panda Bear,
John Cale,
Erasure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Move,
JFA,
Howard Jones,
Grauzone,
Oblivians,
L. Decosne,
Boredoms,
Essential Logic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barbara Tucker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crime,
World's Most,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Hill,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.