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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the grunge 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Graham Central Station,
Quando Quango,
Rufus Thomas,
Anthony Braxton,
F. McDonald,
The Cowsills,
The Red Krayola,
Agent Orange,
Hot Snakes,
Gichy Dan,
Boogie Down Productions,
T.S.O.L.,
Sarah Menescal,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
PIL,
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispy Ambulance,
Infiniti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barbara Tucker,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thompson Twins,
Negative Approach,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers,
Stereo Dub,
Deadbeat,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dawn Penn,
Pantaleimon,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
Index,
Babytalk,
Skaos,
The Victims,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rosa Yemen,
Theoretical Girls,
Easy Going,
Masters at Work,
X-101,
Minor Threat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.