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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 The Dead C to the funk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
Fugazi,
The Blues Magoos,
World's Most,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Grass Roots,
MC5,
Nils Olav,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Eden Ahbez,
DNA,
Black Flag,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Symarip,
Vainqueur,
Lungfish,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
Mo-Dettes,
Metal Thangz,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Slits,
Urselle,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quando Quango,
Young Marble Giants,
Flipper,
Mark Hollis,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cramps,
Charles Mingus,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Slackers,
Aaron Thompson,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
Sandy B,
The Searchers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rekid,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.