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 Nauru and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Human League to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Theoretical Girls,
Ice-T,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
Zero Boys,
The Selecter,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Radio Birdman,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
Public Enemy,
Massinfluence,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Easy Going,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Divine Comedy,
Lightning Bolt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mandrill,
The Barracudas,
Mantronix,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The United States of America,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare,
Rakim,
Tim Buckley,
The Index,
Hardrive,
Alton Ellis,
AZ,
The Doors,
In Retrospect,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
These Immortal Souls,
Moebius,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
kango's stein massive,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nik Kershaw,
Skarface,
Tears for Fears,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agitation Free,
Juan Atkins,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
Aural Exciters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
The Toasters,
Anthony Braxton,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.