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 Guatemala and from London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Mars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pagans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
June Days,
The Busters,
Joey Negro,
The United States of America,
Todd Rundgren,
Sixth Finger,
The Leaves,
Max Romeo,
Radiopuhelimet,
AZ,
Deakin,
Japan,
Cluster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Flag,
Duran Duran,
Dead Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
Chris & Cosey,
The Walker Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Marine Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Gang Starr,
Roxette,
Jerry's Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
Albert Ayler,
Unwound,
John Foxx,
Young Marble Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantytec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
the Slits,
PIL,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Gong,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.