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 Samoa and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Michael McDonald 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Wells,
Judy Mowatt,
The Black Dice,
Matthew Bourne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Clear Light,
Bush Tetras,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heaven 17,
The Remains,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Techniques,
Porter Ricks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Alarm Clocks,
Matthew Halsall,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Sandy B,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camouflage,
Youth Brigade,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
Scratch Acid,
Roxette,
The Gories,
a-ha,
Vainqueur,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sonic Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cheater Slicks,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Rosa Yemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yellowson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Toni Rubio,
the Germs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pere Ubu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mantronix,
Al Stewart,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.