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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Simply Red 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Pantaleimon,
Lungfish,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mars,
The Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Ronan,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Marine Girls,
Robert Görl,
Gerry Rafferty,
Warsaw,
Black Moon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Terry,
Reagan Youth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Wells,
The Slackers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
B.T. Express,
Moebius,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Second Layer,
Gabor Szabo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Livin' Joy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
Black Pus,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-101,
Rapeman,
Susan Cadogan,
Buzzcocks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül II,
Aloha Tigers,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Sex Pistols,
Godley & Creme,
Arab on Radar,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Suburban Knight,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.