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 Croatia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Silicon Teens to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
Kayak,
Darondo,
Chris Corsano,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Bill Near,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Bowie,
Faust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Subhumans,
Kerrie Biddell,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pagans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donny Hathaway,
the Swans,
The Cramps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
Yellowson,
Duran Duran,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Teasers,
Eric Copeland,
Donald Byrd,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy Collins,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Interpol,
Lakeside,
Bobby Sherman,
Letta Mbulu,
Saccharine Trust,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chris & Cosey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Audionom,
Con Funk Shun,
the Sonics,
Pulsallama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scion,
Babytalk,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.