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 Togo and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
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 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 Ornette Coleman to the crunk 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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Black Bananas,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Pulsallama,
Godley & Creme,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
the Sonics,
MC5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flash Fearless,
The Leaves,
The Fortunes,
Ten City,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yellowson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crime,
The Mummies,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Marmalade,
F. McDonald,
The Gories,
Spoonie Gee,
Rufus Thomas,
Kas Product,
Rites of Spring,
Eric Copeland,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Scott Walker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Almond,
Radio Birdman,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
Flipper,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Kurtis Blow,
Dawn Penn,
Y Pants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.