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 Libya and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the disco 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Sällskapet,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dead C,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pussy Galore,
Cecil Taylor,
Camouflage,
Gang of Four,
Blancmange,
the Soft Cell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Prince Buster,
Cymande,
The Shadows of Knight,
Echospace,
Jandek,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
The Move,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
Tears for Fears,
Flash Fearless,
Ossler,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Japan,
Deadbeat,
The Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
Quantec,
The Names,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jeff Lynne,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
a-ha,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
Be Bop Deluxe,
OOIOO,
The Remains,
Rites of Spring,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nik Kershaw,
The Velvet Underground,
Schoolly D,
Ituana,
Marmalade,
Magma,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Slave,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.