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 Seychelles and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 David Bowie to the disco 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
The Names,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skarface,
Ronan,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
Donald Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
Jandek,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Jacob Miller,
Peter and Kerry,
Vainqueur,
Cluster,
The Victims,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Bananas,
Anakelly,
Warsaw,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dual Sessions,
Fat Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Cymande,
Leonard Cohen,
Clear Light,
Lower 48,
Quando Quango,
Scan 7,
Fatback Band,
The Cramps,
Donny Hathaway,
Tom Boy,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
Chris & Cosey,
The Motions,
L. Decosne,
Masters at Work,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxy Music,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.