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 Palau and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
CMW,
John Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
48th St. Collective,
The Neon Judgement,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ornette Coleman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wire,
Newcleus,
Peter and Kerry,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
FM Einheit,
The Pretty Things,
The Trojans,
Zapp,
The Happenings,
Yellowson,
Jeff Lynne,
X-102,
the Association,
Rod Modell,
The Real Kids,
Icehouse,
Funkadelic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Wyatt,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Wells,
ABC,
Jimmy McGriff,
Andrew Hill,
The Associates,
Aswad,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tomorrow,
L. Decosne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
KRS-One,
The Cure,
Morten Harket,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.