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 Japan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Shoche,
Bang On A Can,
the Sonics,
The Smoke,
the Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rosa Yemen,
Slave,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sällskapet,
Cybotron,
Colin Newman,
The J.B.'s,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
The Skatalites,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Morten Harket,
Barbara Tucker,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harry Pussy,
Scott Walker,
Alton Ellis,
The Gories,
The Litter,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Slick Rick,
Nico,
The Blues Magoos,
MDC,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
Infiniti,
AZ,
Janne Schatter,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quando Quango,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anakelly,
Monolake,
Ronan,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.