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 Sierra Leone and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Ohio Players,
Symarip,
Josef K,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Wake,
Boredoms,
Nick Fraelich,
Babytalk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
Swans,
Eddi Front,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Bourne,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
B.T. Express,
Sister Nancy,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
Saccharine Trust,
Yusef Lateef,
Echospace,
Nik Kershaw,
Tres Demented,
Charles Mingus,
CMW,
Swell Maps,
FM Einheit,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
Crime,
Los Fastidios,
Harry Pussy,
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Technova,
Theoretical Girls,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
F. McDonald,
Index,
Sight & Sound,
Pagans,
Country Teasers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lindisfarne,
Pylon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.