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 Syria and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer 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 The Wake to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Duran Duran,
Negative Approach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
K-Klass,
Terrestrial Tones,
Subhumans,
Pylon,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Joy Division,
Bronski Beat,
Vladislav Delay,
Kurtis Blow,
Adolescents,
Scan 7,
The United States of America,
Maurizio,
Fear,
The Misunderstood,
Morten Harket,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stiv Bators,
Metal Thangz,
Blake Baxter,
The Moody Blues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Second Layer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Tubeway Army,
Barrington Levy,
The Star Department,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
Warsaw,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nils Olav,
Charles Mingus,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
Scientists,
Eddi Front,
Saccharine Trust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Steve Hackett,
Deakin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Moebius,
Black Flag,
Japan,
The Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stereo Dub,
The Evens,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.