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 Portugal and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lakeside,
Althea and Donna,
John Cale,
Sparks,
X-102,
The Zeros,
Tubeway Army,
Aloha Tigers,
ABBA,
Bill Wells,
DJ Sneak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Parrish,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
Radio Birdman,
Rosa Yemen,
The Evens,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
Quando Quango,
The Standells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marvin Gaye,
The Flesh Eaters,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Jacob Miller,
Smog,
Urselle,
Unwound,
Tres Demented,
Yaz,
Don Cherry,
Bizarre Inc.,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Schoolly D,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
David McCallum,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Wyatt,
Groovy Waters,
Desert Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Maurizio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.