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 Djibouti and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Television to the crunk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Joy Division,
The Gories,
Freddie Wadling,
Throbbing Gristle,
Maurizio,
The Residents,
Fear,
The Buckinghams,
E-Dancer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Misunderstood,
Soft Cell,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
Yazoo,
The Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pantytec,
Stiv Bators,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Echospace,
The Gladiators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bill Near,
Lalann,
K-Klass,
LL Cool J,
Fugazi,
Eddi Front,
Peter & Gordon,
Jacob Miller,
KRS-One,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dawn Penn,
World's Most,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monks,
The American Breed,
Public Image Ltd.,
Agent Orange,
Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
Tears for Fears,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rod Modell,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
T.S.O.L.,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.