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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Yellowson,
OOIOO,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
Bootsy Collins,
Jawbox,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
Altered Images,
Fluxion,
Robert Görl,
Kayak,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joey Negro,
This Heat,
Sixth Finger,
Essential Logic,
U.S. Maple,
Be Bop Deluxe,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
Ludus,
Agent Orange,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
The Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tubeway Army,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Panda Bear,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aural Exciters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Warsaw,
Bauhaus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Soul Sonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Delta 5,
The Birthday Party,
John Cale,
New Order,
Suburban Knight,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Stetsasonic,
Matthew Halsall,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.