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 Romania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Mandrill to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Kayak,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
the Association,
Rotary Connection,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Womack,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mojo Men,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ken Boothe,
Model 500,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Motions,
Skarface,
Flash Fearless,
Morten Harket,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Public Image Ltd.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
Agent Orange,
Todd Terry,
The Doors,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Smog,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fugazi,
Gabor Szabo,
Lindisfarne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New York Dolls,
Donny Hathaway,
EPMD,
Tim Buckley,
Eve St. Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Tubeway Army,
Marc Almond,
Dave Gahan,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.