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 Liechtenstein and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Eric B and Rakim to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
CMW,
The Black Dice,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Accadde A,
Rapeman,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
Sun Ra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Music Machine,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultra Naté,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Pus,
Vainqueur,
David McCallum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Junior Murvin,
Unwound,
Matthew Halsall,
Q65,
KRS-One,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sparks,
Blossom Toes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Kas Product,
Pagans,
Steve Hackett,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Jacob Miller,
The Buckinghams,
Aswad,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.