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 Belgium and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Calgary.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Technova to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
EPMD,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nils Olav,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Copeland,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Clear Light,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Aural Exciters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Porter Ricks,
B.T. Express,
Sandy B,
Boz Scaggs,
Audionom,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
Cameo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chrome,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Isaac Hayes,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
F. McDonald,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Con Funk Shun,
Pere Ubu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Michelle Simonal,
Arcadia,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alton Ellis,
Boredoms,
MDC,
Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Popol Vuh,
E-Dancer,
the Human League,
Wally Richardson,
Slick Rick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arthur Verocai,
Wire,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blancmange,
Scion,
Youth Brigade,
Pantaleimon,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
The Happenings,
Half Japanese,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.