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 Kosovo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the punk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
the Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
One Last Wish,
Franke,
Kurtis Blow,
Quando Quango,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Halsall,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
Country Teasers,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
The Sonics,
MC5,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxette,
Minny Pops,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sarah Menescal,
Sällskapet,
Magazine,
Brass Construction,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Wyatt,
Slave,
Y Pants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The United States of America,
Ossler,
Joe Smooth,
Loose Ends,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Smoke,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
Subhumans,
The Neon Judgement,
Amon Düül,
Gerry Rafferty,
New Age Steppers,
John Lydon,
Radio Birdman,
Deepchord,
Cybotron,
Soulsonic Force,
The Offenders,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultra Naté,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.