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 Peru and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Music Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fear,
Slave,
Clear Light,
the Human League,
Connie Case,
John Holt,
Rotary Connection,
Barbara Tucker,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Golliwogs,
Duran Duran,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Silicon Teens,
Whodini,
Tommy Roe,
a-ha,
Skaos,
Outsiders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Inner City,
The New Christs,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cure,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Toni Rubio,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Massinfluence,
Niagra,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Jandek,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sex Pistols,
the Sonics,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scrapy,
Stereo Dub,
Scratch Acid,
Sight & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.