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 India and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Reuben Wilson to the punk 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
L. Decosne,
Glenn Branca,
Intrusion,
a-ha,
New Age Steppers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Davy DMX,
Bluetip,
Archie Shepp,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spandau Ballet,
Gabor Szabo,
Mars,
Tim Buckley,
Henry Cow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amon Düül,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grauzone,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rosa Yemen,
Marine Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
Blossom Toes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
ABBA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vladislav Delay,
Motorama,
KRS-One,
Radiohead,
Stetsasonic,
Brothers Johnson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
Delta 5,
The Star Department,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultravox,
Amazonics,
DJ Style,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Dual Sessions,
The Slackers,
Absolute Body Control,
The Music Machine,
Make Up,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moebius,
The Doors,
Matthew Halsall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sonic Youth,
Basic Channel,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.