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 Poland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
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 harpsichord 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 Pere Ubu to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Q65,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brothers Johnson,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Christie,
Peter & Gordon,
Index,
Slick Rick,
Crime,
Kas Product,
Neu!,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Machine,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pylon,
Clear Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Standells,
Eurythmics,
Delta 5,
Ultra Naté,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
Matthew Halsall,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
The Techniques,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
Wally Richardson,
Iggy Pop,
Swell Maps,
Visage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
Jerry's Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bluetip,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DNA,
Graham Central Station,
Joyce Sims,
The Knickerbockers,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.