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 Belarus and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Scan 7 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '80s.
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 Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Cure,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Clarke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Motorama,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Das Ding,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
LL Cool J,
the Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Steve Hackett,
Minor Threat,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
Morten Harket,
Ultra Naté,
Bootsy Collins,
Cluster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Make Up,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sam Rivers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Depeche Mode,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Cheater Slicks,
Mandrill,
Joyce Sims,
Lalo Schifrin,
Adolescents,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
Public Enemy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Massinfluence,
John Cale,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
The Doors,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Scientists,
Swell Maps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Tears for Fears,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sound,
Eli Mardock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Simply Red,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.