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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Tears for Fears to the funk 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
The Star Department,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Smoke,
The Sound,
The Saints,
Wasted Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Aural Exciters,
Dark Day,
Public Enemy,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
Urselle,
Agitation Free,
Sound Behaviour,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q and Not U,
Audionom,
Robert Görl,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Bowie,
Archie Shepp,
Derrick May,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yazoo,
Warren Ellis,
Shoche,
The Velvet Underground,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hashim,
Toni Rubio,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Index,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monochrome Set,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
Massinfluence,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
Deadbeat,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oblivians,
Roxette,
Buzzcocks,
Lightning Bolt,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faraquet,
Zero Boys,
Lindisfarne,
Sun Ra,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.