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 Haiti and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Model 500,
Janne Schatter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minutemen,
Wolf Eyes,
This Heat,
Pole,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
AZ,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tim Buckley,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Althea and Donna,
Tres Demented,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Foxx,
Duran Duran,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
Warsaw,
Amon Düül,
Connie Case,
Scion,
UT,
Tubeway Army,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pantaleimon,
Crispy Ambulance,
PIL,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Mantronix,
Andrew Hill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Accadde A,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
10cc,
The Pretty Things,
Crime,
Fluxion,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
Hashim,
Fad Gadget,
Bauhaus,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.