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 Mozambique and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marshall Jefferson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Dark Day,
Prince Buster,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Last Poets,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacob Miller,
Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
Kurtis Blow,
Joensuu 1685,
Television Personalities,
Negative Approach,
Rhythm & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
X-101,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
Funkadelic,
Iggy Pop,
Das Ding,
Inner City,
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mandrill,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Beau Brummels,
One Last Wish,
Tres Demented,
Camberwell Now,
B.T. Express,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Siglo XX,
Robert Wyatt,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Shuggie Otis,
Tom Boy,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Grass Roots,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.