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 Yemen and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Rekid to the jazz 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
The Smoke,
The Young Rascals,
Faust,
Jeff Lynne,
Masters at Work,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Real Kids,
Dennis Brown,
JFA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
X-101,
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
The Techniques,
Groovy Waters,
Tres Demented,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mad Mike,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
Lalann,
Sällskapet,
the Association,
Laurel Aitken,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
MDC,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Infiniti,
Cymande,
Ponytail,
Spoonie Gee,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
Big Daddy Kane,
One Last Wish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ten City,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Sparks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Matthew Bourne,
Bill Wells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonic Youth,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun Ra,
Harmonia,
Harpers Bizarre,
Piero Umiliani,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.