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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Patti Smith to the jazz 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Skriet,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fire Engines,
The Fall,
June of 44,
Eddi Front,
The United States of America,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
Connie Case,
David Bowie,
Ultravox,
John Holt,
Easy Going,
Mars,
Sällskapet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun City Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Franke,
Average White Band,
Animal Collective,
The Count Five,
Mo-Dettes,
Smog,
Rapeman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kerri Chandler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mandrill,
Dawn Penn,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-101,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
Ludus,
F. McDonald,
Marine Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Boz Scaggs,
Porter Ricks,
Godley & Creme,
Nirvana,
Arcadia,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.