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 Rwanda and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pole to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Kinks,
The Smoke,
Ituana,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
The Remains,
Interpol,
Shoche,
DJ Style,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Visage,
Sun City Girls,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Almond,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
Neil Young,
Ultimate Spinach,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Halsall,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul II Soul,
Hardrive,
Theoretical Girls,
Second Layer,
Bill Near,
Procol Harum,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
Sun Ra,
Jawbox,
Black Moon,
Robert Görl,
Janne Schatter,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacques Brel,
Accadde A,
La Düsseldorf,
Vladislav Delay,
Yellowson,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gun Club,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantytec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Iggy Pop,
Archie Shepp,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.