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 Slovenia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Edmonton.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 the Fania All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
The Human League,
Deakin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gong,
The Cure,
Unwound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
Au Pairs,
Drexciya,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Morten Harket,
Guru Guru,
In Retrospect,
Graham Central Station,
Supertramp,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
Lou Reed,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
Sister Nancy,
Flash Fearless,
Josef K,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
Soft Machine,
Y Pants,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Connie Case,
Dead Boys,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arcadia,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Subhumans,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Enemy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.