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 San Marino and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the punk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Todd Rundgren,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
X-101,
the Bar-Kays,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ten City,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Harry Pussy,
Metal Thangz,
The Happenings,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Black Flag,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
Crispy Ambulance,
Easy Going,
The Wake,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers,
Kayak,
Pole,
The Slackers,
The Fortunes,
Index,
China Crisis,
Hardrive,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
The Five Americans,
Section 25,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
The Last Poets,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Red Krayola,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cymande,
Sexual Harrassment,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
The Gladiators,
Peter and Kerry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Smiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.