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 Barbados and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Country Teasers 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
Joey Negro,
DJ Style,
Jacques Brel,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Lucky Dragons,
Angry Samoans,
The Raincoats,
Patti Smith,
Al Stewart,
The Dead C,
The Blues Magoos,
Moss Icon,
The Red Krayola,
A Certain Ratio,
Barbara Tucker,
Darondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Q and Not U,
Desert Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
Amon Düül,
Byron Stingily,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deadbeat,
B.T. Express,
Sonic Youth,
Wally Richardson,
LL Cool J,
Glenn Branca,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Los Fastidios,
Intrusion,
Alphaville,
Excepter,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter and Kerry,
DJ Sneak,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Thee Headcoats,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crime,
John Lydon,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.