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 Belize and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the funk 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Cheater Slicks,
The Beau Brummels,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Q and Not U,
Joe Finger,
Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Yellowson,
The Smoke,
Young Marble Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Interpol,
JFA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Qualms,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Donny Hathaway,
Shoche,
Mars,
Joyce Sims,
Scratch Acid,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
Josef K,
The Tremeloes,
Boredoms,
Wire,
Visage,
Severed Heads,
The Black Dice,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Maurizio,
The Wake,
Alphaville,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blues Magoos,
Technova,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Starr,
Davy DMX,
The Moleskins,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Skaos,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Circle Jerks,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.