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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 David Bowie 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 American Breed to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Minnie Riperton,
The Knickerbockers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Index,
The Buckinghams,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chrome,
Cameo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
Excepter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Yaz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Erasure,
Massinfluence,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Victims,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
Zero Boys,
Neu!,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
Lalo Schifrin,
Derrick Morgan,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
CMW,
Interpol,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Lebanon Hanover,
Don Cherry,
Shuggie Otis,
Liliput,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Sherman,
Thompson Twins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deakin,
The Raincoats,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band.
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.