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 Congo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nik Kershaw to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Talk Talk,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Q65,
Newcleus,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Flipper,
Supertramp,
Porter Ricks,
Make Up,
The Durutti Column,
Arcadia,
MC5,
R.M.O.,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Associates,
The Divine Comedy,
Morten Harket,
Liliput,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
Mark Hollis,
The Barracudas,
Fat Boys,
The Human League,
Dual Sessions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
Rotary Connection,
Steve Hackett,
The Monks,
The Searchers,
The Mummies,
CMW,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
Scott Walker,
Leonard Cohen,
Unwound,
Alice Coltrane,
Bad Manners,
Eddi Front,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Graham Central Station,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.