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 Niger and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Fear to the electroclash 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Rotary Connection,
Judy Mowatt,
Oneida,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Essential Logic,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
The Dead C,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Tubeway Army,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
Monks,
Amon Düül,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
the Sonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Althea and Donna,
Skaos,
The Litter,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Minnie Riperton,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Severed Heads,
Mr. Review,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Buckinghams,
The Human League,
The Searchers,
Thee Headcoats,
D'Angelo,
Todd Rundgren,
New York Dolls,
Bill Near,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Patti Smith,
Alton Ellis,
Hashim,
Theoretical Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Franke,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barry Ungar,
Yellowson,
Cymande,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultravox,
Steve Hackett,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.