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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 T. Rex to the crunk 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fugazi,
Gang of Four,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
Marcia Griffiths,
Neu!,
The Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gong,
Wings,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun City Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Public Enemy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America,
Mary Jane Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Franke,
Aural Exciters,
The Durutti Column,
Intrusion,
The Red Krayola,
Bluetip,
The Blues Magoos,
Moebius,
F. McDonald,
Boredoms,
Soul II Soul,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Alton Ellis,
Lower 48,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Massinfluence,
Infiniti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Swell Maps,
Bob Dylan,
John Lydon,
The Mummies,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pet Shop Boys,
In Retrospect,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.