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 Slovakia and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the electroclash 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
World's Most,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Minutemen,
One Last Wish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tom Boy,
Wolf Eyes,
Fear,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doors,
The Buckinghams,
Lungfish,
Blancmange,
Dorothy Ashby,
Visage,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Green,
ABBA,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip,
Letta Mbulu,
The Divine Comedy,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Michelle Simonal,
Barbara Tucker,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Almond,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Negative Approach,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
Grandmaster Flash,
Audionom,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Brothers Johnson,
the Sonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Byron Stingily,
The Motions,
Jeff Mills,
Gang Starr,
Althea and Donna,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed,
The Stooges,
The J.B.'s,
Eve St. Jones,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.