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 Guinea-Bissau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Faraquet to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Iggy Pop,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bronski Beat,
Babytalk,
This Heat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxy Music,
The Toasters,
The Gladiators,
The Residents,
The Angels of Light,
Nik Kershaw,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cecil Taylor,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Danielle Patucci,
David McCallum,
Lungfish,
The Birthday Party,
Deakin,
Radiohead,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Q and Not U,
Quadrant,
The Index,
Country Teasers,
Mandrill,
Moby Grape,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Intrusion,
Blake Baxter,
China Crisis,
Robert Wyatt,
Swans,
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Television Personalities,
Silicon Teens,
Harmonia,
Qualms,
The Music Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Peter & Gordon,
Tres Demented,
Camberwell Now,
Jeff Lynne,
The Remains,
Moss Icon,
Brothers Johnson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Negative Approach,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.