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 Czech Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
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 rhodes 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 Derrick Morgan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scratch Acid,
Mr. Review,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
Supertramp,
Agitation Free,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Funkadelic,
Echospace,
Index,
Sun City Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Altered Images,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warsaw,
Marvin Gaye,
Chrome,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Hood,
Tubeway Army,
Yusef Lateef,
Skaos,
Zero Boys,
Joy Division,
OOIOO,
JFA,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hoover,
Black Pus,
Funky Four + One,
Dual Sessions,
David Axelrod,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Main Source,
Grauzone,
Gang Green,
Severed Heads,
Kerrie Biddell,
Circle Jerks,
The Happenings,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Mills,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Negative Approach,
Minutemen,
Urselle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Los Fastidios,
Royal Trux,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.