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 Solomon Islands and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Mighty Diamonds to the techno 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Subhumans,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
Charles Mingus,
Shoche,
Hasil Adkins,
kango's stein massive,
Hoover,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythm & Sound,
Das Ding,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
Q65,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Pop Group,
Groovy Waters,
Goldenarms,
Trumans Water,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Young Marble Giants,
Mandrill,
The Move,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crime,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joy Division,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Half Japanese,
Blancmange,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lucky Dragons,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Bowie,
The Gories,
These Immortal Souls,
Kenny Larkin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bad Manners,
John Lydon,
MDC,
Tom Boy,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camouflage,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.