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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pulsallama to the dance 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Motions,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Moby Grape,
Pantaleimon,
Tim Buckley,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
New York Dolls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Pere Ubu,
The Mojo Men,
The Happenings,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mandrill,
One Last Wish,
Donald Byrd,
Lakeside,
The Modern Lovers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crime,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q65,
Soulsonic Force,
Thee Headcoats,
Shoche,
Hashim,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Juan Atkins,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Walker Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Tears for Fears,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gap Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Half Japanese,
Yazoo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cybotron,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amon Düül II,
Minutemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cameo,
Gong,
Tommy Roe,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mummies,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lightning Bolt,
PIL,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Negative Approach,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.