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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
James White and The Blacks,
Amazonics,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
The Dead C,
Godley & Creme,
Vainqueur,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Enemy,
Rekid,
Siglo XX,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
Parry Music,
Rites of Spring,
Roxy Music,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The United States of America,
The Raincoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
Derrick May,
Flipper,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Soft Cell,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
KRS-One,
Black Sheep,
Second Layer,
Jacob Miller,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nirvana,
Skriet,
Thompson Twins,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
X-101,
Ten City,
Joensuu 1685,
Minnie Riperton,
Fad Gadget,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed,
Altered Images,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.