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 Israel and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 rhodes 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 Throbbing Gristle to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Quando Quango,
Visage,
Boz Scaggs,
Franke,
Schoolly D,
D'Angelo,
Brass Construction,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy Collins,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
Eddi Front,
Aloha Tigers,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Smog,
Quadrant,
Electric Prunes,
Talk Talk,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gories,
Ituana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
Excepter,
Cecil Taylor,
Aaron Thompson,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Cale,
Scott Walker,
T.S.O.L.,
Flash Fearless,
Mo-Dettes,
Erasure,
The Count Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
The Trojans,
Main Source,
Piero Umiliani,
Skaos,
Rekid,
Tommy Roe,
Iggy Pop,
Jacob Miller,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.