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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fire Engines to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Happenings,
Kayak,
Black Moon,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Osbourne,
D'Angelo,
Freddie Wadling,
Angry Samoans,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
U.S. Maple,
Colin Newman,
Janne Schatter,
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
Con Funk Shun,
Scion,
The Dave Clark Five,
June of 44,
Parry Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mr. Review,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Young Marble Giants,
Motorama,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Wells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ronan,
Ituana,
The Toasters,
The Invisible,
Basic Channel,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grauzone,
The Associates,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deadbeat,
Sarah Menescal,
Unwound,
Scrapy,
The Wake,
The Neon Judgement,
Sight & Sound,
Derrick May,
Dave Gahan,
The Litter,
Cecil Taylor,
Bang On A Can,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kas Product,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.