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 United States and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the techno 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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
The Slackers,
Silicon Teens,
E-Dancer,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
Howard Jones,
La Düsseldorf,
Absolute Body Control,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
Aural Exciters,
Erykah Badu,
Fad Gadget,
Schoolly D,
the Association,
Barclay James Harvest,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
Crime,
Boredoms,
Pole,
Average White Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
June Days,
Lower 48,
Marc Almond,
Prince Buster,
Vainqueur,
The Barracudas,
Smog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
Kurtis Blow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cramps,
Black Sheep,
The Invisible,
Terrestrial Tones,
Niagra,
David McCallum,
New Age Steppers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
ABC,
Graham Central Station,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
Malaria!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Human League,
X-102,
Black Pus,
The Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
China Crisis,
Duran Duran,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Minnie Riperton,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.