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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Harry Pussy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Amazonics,
Gang of Four,
The J.B.'s,
The Durutti Column,
Accadde A,
The Real Kids,
Piero Umiliani,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Desert Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joyce Sims,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
The Busters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
Qualms,
Crash Course in Science,
Unrelated Segments,
Amon Düül,
Agent Orange,
Blancmange,
Delon & Dalcan,
Letta Mbulu,
Donald Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
Parry Music,
Ralphi Rosario,
Chrome,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Second Layer,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
Pylon,
The Dirtbombs,
Silicon Teens,
Reuben Wilson,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
The Moleskins,
Camouflage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.