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 Mongolia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Holger Czukay 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slave,
Kayak,
Cheater Slicks,
Joy Division,
D'Angelo,
Faraquet,
Ludus,
Man Parrish,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wasted Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Suburban Knight,
Jacob Miller,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
Moss Icon,
Roger Hodgson,
Grauzone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cal Tjader,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Nik Kershaw,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erasure,
Davy DMX,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Star Department,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Wings,
Gregory Isaacs,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
The Fall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
L. Decosne,
Don Cherry,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.