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 Ethiopia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Lou Reed 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the electroclash 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Seeds,
Rakim,
The Smoke,
Michelle Simonal,
Von Mondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Camberwell Now,
Roy Ayers,
Roxette,
The Litter,
Gang Starr,
Susan Cadogan,
The Stooges,
Fatback Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Lydon,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
Sonic Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang Green,
Cluster,
Shuggie Otis,
Das Ding,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Terry,
Toni Rubio,
10cc,
June Days,
Make Up,
The Grass Roots,
Sixth Finger,
Babytalk,
Spandau Ballet,
Tears for Fears,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
Nirvana,
Aswad,
Marc Almond,
Dennis Brown,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Groovy Waters,
Yusef Lateef,
Matthew Bourne,
Dave Gahan,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Banda Bassotti,
David McCallum,
Pole,
Althea and Donna,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.