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 Switzerland and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Slave to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Peter and Kerry,
Con Funk Shun,
Althea and Donna,
Radio Birdman,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
New Order,
Silicon Teens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
Throbbing Gristle,
Symarip,
June Days,
Fugazi,
The Sound,
Newcleus,
Interpol,
The Tremeloes,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed,
Yusef Lateef,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pantaleimon,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The United States of America,
The Zeros,
Country Teasers,
Mantronix,
Circle Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
L. Decosne,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
Joy Division,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Ice-T,
Smog,
Wally Richardson,
FM Einheit,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.