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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Camouflage to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Ken Boothe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
The Trojans,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
Von Mondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marc Almond,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pagans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
T.S.O.L.,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
World's Most,
Soft Cell,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smiths,
Massinfluence,
Connie Case,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
Gong,
Subhumans,
Arab on Radar,
Buzzcocks,
Matthew Halsall,
Carl Craig,
Hoover,
Goldenarms,
The Sonics,
The Happenings,
Fad Gadget,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
Faraquet,
Supertramp,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
cv313,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faust,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.