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 Kuwait and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cure to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Carl Craig,
The Standells,
8 Eyed Spy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pussy Galore,
Jacques Brel,
Patti Smith,
Jacob Miller,
Lyres,
The Angels of Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Echospace,
The New Christs,
Icehouse,
Hasil Adkins,
Basic Channel,
Brass Construction,
Monks,
The Gladiators,
The Cowsills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
T.S.O.L.,
Graham Central Station,
Byron Stingily,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Henry Cow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra,
Bronski Beat,
The Dirtbombs,
Mission of Burma,
Subhumans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hardrive,
Boredoms,
Can,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
Davy DMX,
Visage,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warren Ellis,
Silicon Teens,
Simply Red,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.