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 Fiji and from Hong Kong.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Teasers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
Hardrive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bronski Beat,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sonics,
The Searchers,
Max Romeo,
Qualms,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Make Up,
Roxette,
The Happenings,
Nas,
Second Layer,
Aswad,
Black Flag,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Move,
Rapeman,
Porter Ricks,
Accadde A,
Sound Behaviour,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Fraelich,
Wire,
Sparks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Urselle,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Isaac Hayes,
Unrelated Segments,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
The Victims,
Bill Near,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Toni Rubio,
The Sound,
F. McDonald,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.