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 Ireland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints 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?
Angry Samoans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Clear Light,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Tremeloes,
Dennis Brown,
Rites of Spring,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Walker Brothers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Minor Threat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cymande,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
The Move,
Ultravox,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ten City,
Sister Nancy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Liliput,
Make Up,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soulsonic Force,
Skarface,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Mad Mike,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Basic Channel,
These Immortal Souls,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Reuben Wilson,
Bluetip,
Graham Central Station,
The Durutti Column,
Pole,
The United States of America,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Chris Corsano,
Minutemen,
Gang of Four,
Bill Wells,
Accadde A,
Soft Machine,
The Five Americans,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.