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 Switzerland and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
The Happenings,
Stiv Bators,
The Birthday Party,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
Fatback Band,
F. McDonald,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Severed Heads,
Boredoms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Teasers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Chris & Cosey,
Ten City,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sugar Minott,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
Unwound,
Underground Resistance,
Bang On A Can,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Enemy,
The Pop Group,
D'Angelo,
Minor Threat,
Soft Cell,
The Neon Judgement,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yaz,
The Golliwogs,
Lakeside,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sight & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Red Krayola,
Q and Not U,
The Blackbyrds,
Pulsallama,
The Selecter,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantaleimon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Interpol,
Mantronix,
Charles Mingus,
Absolute Body Control,
Basic Channel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chrome,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.