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 Peru and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 The Real Kids to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Marmalade,
The Fugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
Ice-T,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Mo-Dettes,
Dead Boys,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Rundgren,
The Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
Animal Collective,
Sparks,
Jawbox,
Public Image Ltd.,
X-101,
Flipper,
The Star Department,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Byron Stingily,
Surgeon,
MC5,
The Shadows of Knight,
Au Pairs,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fat Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Talk Talk,
The Residents,
Laurel Aitken,
Sarah Menescal,
Jacob Miller,
Schoolly D,
Al Stewart,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Niagra,
Oblivians,
The Durutti Column,
The J.B.'s,
Scott Walker,
The Five Americans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dennis Brown,
Tears for Fears,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.