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 Sweden and from Tokyo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 Scratch Acid to the rap 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Derrick Morgan,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
The Fall,
Sparks,
Average White Band,
Drexciya,
Thompson Twins,
Urselle,
Anakelly,
Eddi Front,
The Gladiators,
Fela Kuti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Standells,
T.S.O.L.,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sound,
The Move,
Steve Hackett,
Davy DMX,
Metal Thangz,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Excepter,
Animal Collective,
Brothers Johnson,
Stiv Bators,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Associates,
Idris Muhammad,
Youth Brigade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
Bauhaus,
PIL,
the Association,
Blancmange,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
Brand Nubian,
Los Fastidios,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Busters,
Eden Ahbez,
10cc,
Aural Exciters,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultravox,
The Grass Roots,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.