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 Australia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Dave Gahan to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Funky Four + One,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doobie Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
The Toasters,
Dark Day,
Freddie Wadling,
Monolake,
Moby Grape,
Unwound,
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
Howard Jones,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Eli Mardock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cecil Taylor,
Tropical Tobacco,
Darondo,
Cybotron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxette,
Lungfish,
Roxy Music,
Toni Rubio,
Index,
Deakin,
Von Mondo,
The Fall,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Machine,
Connie Case,
Ultra Naté,
OOIOO,
Colin Newman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Depeche Mode,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
Saccharine Trust,
Pierre Henry,
Arthur Verocai,
Malaria!,
The Doors,
Wally Richardson,
Easy Going,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
The Moody Blues,
Nils Olav,
The Motions,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Al Stewart,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.