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 Argentina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mo-Dettes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
The J.B.'s,
Little Man,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
Scientists,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Thompson Twins,
Das Ding,
Juan Atkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Zero Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Toasters,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rites of Spring,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ken Boothe,
Joe Finger,
Ultravox,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Copeland,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Mo-Dettes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Toni Rubio,
Pantytec,
Saccharine Trust,
Interpol,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hardrive,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fad Gadget,
Absolute Body Control,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mission of Burma,
The Monochrome Set,
The Motions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
Blossom Toes,
The Music Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Anthony Braxton,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.