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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Derrick Morgan to the punk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Starr,
Groovy Waters,
Severed Heads,
China Crisis,
Rufus Thomas,
Skarface,
Black Moon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
Marc Almond,
Harry Pussy,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
The United States of America,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Bluetip,
The Black Dice,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
Minutemen,
CMW,
MC5,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Steve Hackett,
Judy Mowatt,
Black Bananas,
Juan Atkins,
Fluxion,
The Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
the Sonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mission of Burma,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Underground Resistance,
Wings,
UT,
The Zeros,
Suicide,
John Holt,
Country Teasers,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
EPMD,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.