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 Andorra and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
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 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 Albert Ayler to the rock 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
The Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Bluetip,
Groovy Waters,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
Neu!,
Aural Exciters,
Nas,
Joensuu 1685,
The New Christs,
The Victims,
Cameo,
Spandau Ballet,
Bronski Beat,
Cybotron,
Drexciya,
Barbara Tucker,
Lungfish,
Howard Jones,
Clear Light,
Laurel Aitken,
Schoolly D,
Heaven 17,
the Association,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Foxx,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Procol Harum,
Marc Almond,
The Saints,
Dual Sessions,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Wyatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
PIL,
Davy DMX,
Malaria!,
Vladislav Delay,
Maleditus Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Television,
Yaz,
Minor Threat,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
Excepter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.