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 Uzbekistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Todd Terry to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
MC5,
ABBA,
The Fuzztones,
Brand Nubian,
Bill Near,
Jimmy McGriff,
Colin Newman,
Eli Mardock,
Little Man,
Zapp,
Aloha Tigers,
Procol Harum,
Spoonie Gee,
Symarip,
Das Ding,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Names,
Icehouse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crash Course in Science,
Clear Light,
Model 500,
Cameo,
Toni Rubio,
Quadrant,
Crispian St. Peters,
UT,
Nirvana,
The Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Boz Scaggs,
Metal Thangz,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Steve Hackett,
Adolescents,
Robert Wyatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
Piero Umiliani,
Carl Craig,
Cheater Slicks,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Hasil Adkins,
Ohio Players,
Scan 7,
Slave,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
Delta 5,
The Black Dice,
Soul II Soul,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Skatalites,
Monks,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.