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 Azerbaijan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Icehouse 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Crime,
Ossler,
Thompson Twins,
Reagan Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Associates,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
Bauhaus,
The Five Americans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Beau Brummels,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Banda Bassotti,
Skriet,
Cheater Slicks,
Index,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Saccharine Trust,
Rufus Thomas,
Japan,
Piero Umiliani,
Bob Dylan,
OOIOO,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Intrusion,
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
Aaron Thompson,
K-Klass,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
Scott Walker,
John Coltrane,
Groovy Waters,
Isaac Hayes,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy,
The Last Poets,
The Angels of Light,
Magazine,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Morten Harket,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Red Krayola,
Von Mondo,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex,
Kas Product,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.