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 Botswana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flipper to the punk 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Swans,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
Bill Wells,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Smog,
The Techniques,
Malaria!,
Marc Almond,
Flash Fearless,
Maleditus Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Suburban Knight,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Be Bop Deluxe,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo,
Max Romeo,
Ohio Players,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Das Ding,
The Misunderstood,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Halsall,
Alton Ellis,
Pierre Henry,
The Human League,
Ossler,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Robert Görl,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
Altered Images,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Jandek,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.