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 France and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Osbourne to the disco 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Skatalites,
Cameo,
Joe Smooth,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
The Slits,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
KRS-One,
Archie Shepp,
Cecil Taylor,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
B.T. Express,
Popol Vuh,
The Residents,
Tres Demented,
Junior Murvin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Albert Ayler,
Quantec,
The Selecter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
The Moleskins,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
Todd Terry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hashim,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ohio Players,
Nik Kershaw,
Freddie Wadling,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
T.S.O.L.,
The Beau Brummels,
The Gories,
the Normal,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Reagan Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Isaac Hayes,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.