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 New Zealand and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Laurel Aitken to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Mars,
Leonard Cohen,
Unrelated Segments,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Smooth,
Zapp,
LL Cool J,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Flag,
Depeche Mode,
B.T. Express,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tim Buckley,
Moebius,
Bronski Beat,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Terry,
One Last Wish,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Lydon,
John Foxx,
The Gories,
Scratch Acid,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blossom Toes,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
The Leaves,
Angry Samoans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Man Eating Sloth,
Henry Cow,
Surgeon,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Victims,
Scientists,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Light Orchestra,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.