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 Tanzania and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Qualms to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül II,
Anakelly,
Crash Course in Science,
Symarip,
Pierre Henry,
Skarface,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wire,
The United States of America,
Alphaville,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Malaria!,
The Skatalites,
Josef K,
Fluxion,
Joensuu 1685,
Neil Young,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
OOIOO,
Niagra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
Cheater Slicks,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed,
Alton Ellis,
Susan Cadogan,
Ronan,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Pussy Galore,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
Wasted Youth,
One Last Wish,
Trumans Water,
Delta 5,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps,
Main Source,
These Immortal Souls,
Fear,
Gil Scott Heron,
Von Mondo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kayak,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
The Saints,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.