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 Chad and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Stiv Bators to the funk 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Qualms,
Porter Ricks,
Jacob Miller,
Gang Green,
Ornette Coleman,
Panda Bear,
Underground Resistance,
Gang Starr,
The Fugs,
Joy Division,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Royal Trux,
Anthony Braxton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
The J.B.'s,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
Nirvana,
Pole,
Eli Mardock,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Byrd,
Lower 48,
A Certain Ratio,
Ituana,
Barry Ungar,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
The Associates,
Sound Behaviour,
Davy DMX,
Alton Ellis,
Eurythmics,
Deadbeat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kas Product,
Nick Fraelich,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Joey Negro,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pussy Galore,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.