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 Cyprus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 June Days to the funk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Pussy Galore,
Letta Mbulu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swell Maps,
The Monks,
Todd Terry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kenny Larkin,
The J.B.'s,
The Busters,
Hoover,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Matthew Halsall,
Don Cherry,
The Walker Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Techniques,
Delon & Dalcan,
Visage,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Pagans,
Can,
Gabor Szabo,
Main Source,
Hashim,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Archie Shepp,
Ponytail,
Tears for Fears,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
Outsiders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Excepter,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
The Golliwogs,
Lindisfarne,
the Slits,
Black Flag,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brothers Johnson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultra Naté,
Bill Wells,
10cc,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Foxx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Junior Murvin,
Babytalk,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.