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 Bahamas and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Masters at Work to the rock 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Names,
Adolescents,
David McCallum,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
Dave Gahan,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Toasters,
Mr. Review,
The Durutti Column,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scott Walker,
Mark Hollis,
Country Teasers,
Ken Boothe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sixth Finger,
Lyres,
Gang Starr,
Chrome,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
Cameo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delon & Dalcan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Arthur Verocai,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Osbourne,
B.T. Express,
Nirvana,
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
Scrapy,
R.M.O.,
Unrelated Segments,
The Moody Blues,
Skriet,
Outsiders,
Newcleus,
The Beau Brummels,
The Smoke,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.