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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Age Steppers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Robert Wyatt,
Crime,
Reagan Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Parry Music,
Dead Boys,
cv313,
Jacques Brel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
The Kinks,
Sugar Minott,
World's Most,
Circle Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chrome,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yazoo,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
China Crisis,
The Angels of Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Anthony Braxton,
Henry Cow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thompson Twins,
Eurythmics,
The Knickerbockers,
Sister Nancy,
Mark Hollis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tomorrow,
Rufus Thomas,
Glenn Branca,
The Vogues,
Gong,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Mills,
Alice Coltrane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Five Americans,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mars,
Ornette Coleman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Parrish,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.