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 South Africa and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Kenny Larkin,
The Buckinghams,
Altered Images,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
Mo-Dettes,
Mad Mike,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
The Smiths,
Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
The Tremeloes,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
Cheater Slicks,
Dennis Brown,
Toni Rubio,
Lyres,
Black Sheep,
Country Teasers,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Sonics,
The Knickerbockers,
the Swans,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
PIL,
Thee Headcoats,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Davy DMX,
Animal Collective,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joy Division,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Machine,
Essential Logic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Boredoms,
The Trojans,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
World's Most,
Bill Wells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.