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 Brunei and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
the Human League,
The Litter,
Hashim,
Zero Boys,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed,
JFA,
Bill Wells,
Little Man,
These Immortal Souls,
The Names,
Make Up,
Ken Boothe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MDC,
Severed Heads,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Accadde A,
Skarface,
K-Klass,
Excepter,
The Zeros,
Marine Girls,
The Techniques,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bush Tetras,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zapp,
The Pop Group,
Clear Light,
The Mojo Men,
Ten City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Von Mondo,
the Sonics,
The Slackers,
Scratch Acid,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Music Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Sherman,
Michelle Simonal,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
Ponytail,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
Jacob Miller,
Brand Nubian,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.