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 Iraq and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Stereo Dub to the grunge 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
Scott Walker,
The Gladiators,
Kurtis Blow,
Fela Kuti,
Section 25,
Gong,
Marvin Gaye,
Agitation Free,
Brass Construction,
Jerry's Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Rod Modell,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Electric Prunes,
Gichy Dan,
Brick,
The Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
Second Layer,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
Adolescents,
DJ Style,
X-Ray Spex,
Fugazi,
Khruangbin,
China Crisis,
The Modern Lovers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
Marine Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Swans,
Byron Stingily,
UT,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hardrive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Smog,
The Red Krayola,
Fatback Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Inner City,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
Roger Hodgson,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.