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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 The Kinks to the funk 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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Arab on Radar,
Fugazi,
Cameo,
Dennis Brown,
Sugar Minott,
New Order,
Harpers Bizarre,
FM Einheit,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
John Lydon,
Reuben Wilson,
Bluetip,
Marc Almond,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Animal Collective,
Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Pus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bob Dylan,
Technova,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Von Mondo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
the Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Icehouse,
Howard Jones,
Erasure,
Outsiders,
Bauhaus,
Chris & Cosey,
Das Ding,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Pretty Things,
Yusef Lateef,
Boogie Down Productions,
Make Up,
The Searchers,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.