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 Tajikistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Moebius to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fad Gadget,
The Sound,
Massinfluence,
Television,
Scan 7,
Scion,
Camouflage,
Jimmy McGriff,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Sheep,
Scientists,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
K-Klass,
Yellowson,
Eurythmics,
Kurtis Blow,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Yazoo,
Nik Kershaw,
Lalann,
Average White Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
The Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lungfish,
Joensuu 1685,
The Raincoats,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Gang Dance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Birthday Party,
Guru Guru,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Seeds,
John Foxx,
Marmalade,
Arthur Verocai,
Supertramp,
The Mummies,
Howard Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
X-102,
Zapp,
Interpol,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.