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 Dominica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Steve Hackett to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party,
Vainqueur,
The Monochrome Set,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
Popol Vuh,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
Prince Buster,
Sarah Menescal,
Skaos,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Bananas,
LL Cool J,
The Selecter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Niagra,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
Mr. Review,
Heaven 17,
Charles Mingus,
Slave,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun City Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Germs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Golliwogs,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Lightning Bolt,
Liliput,
The Smoke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thee Headcoats,
The Techniques,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The New Christs,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
Chris & Cosey,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dark Day,
The Buckinghams,
Half Japanese,
kango's stein massive,
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.