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 Samoa and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Yazoo to the grime 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Yazoo,
the Slits,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Schoolly D,
Juan Atkins,
Stereo Dub,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
The Pop Group,
John Holt,
Hoover,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Residents,
Visage,
Max Romeo,
Arcadia,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Mr. Review,
Eddi Front,
Lakeside,
New York Dolls,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pagans,
Anakelly,
ABC,
Neil Young,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pantytec,
Sound Behaviour,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Soft Cell,
X-101,
Rapeman,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool Moe Dee,
Young Marble Giants,
Slick Rick,
Alison Limerick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Teasers,
Barry Ungar,
Tim Buckley,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sixth Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fugazi,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.