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 Chile and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Divine Comedy to the crunk 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amon Düül II,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cure,
The Selecter,
Ludus,
Aural Exciters,
The Mojo Men,
The Wake,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
E-Dancer,
The Barracudas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Vainqueur,
Idris Muhammad,
Bob Dylan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
Toni Rubio,
Mars,
Fatback Band,
DJ Style,
Dark Day,
the Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MC5,
Country Teasers,
The Mummies,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Peter & Gordon,
Laurel Aitken,
Ronnie Foster,
Rufus Thomas,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
JFA,
Can,
Mission of Burma,
Erykah Badu,
Aaron Thompson,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crash Course in Science,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Altered Images,
Robert Wyatt,
Mark Hollis,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.