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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
China Crisis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magma,
Ten City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bronski Beat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marmalade,
Rotary Connection,
Inner City,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Angels of Light,
Scratch Acid,
Rakim,
DNA,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Zeros,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
Tears for Fears,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Durutti Column,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fugazi,
Ornette Coleman,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roxy Music,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Funkadelic,
Bobby Sherman,
Iggy Pop,
Groovy Waters,
Rites of Spring,
Junior Murvin,
The Golliwogs,
the Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Suicide,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül II,
Metal Thangz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joe Smooth,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
The Motions,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.