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 El Salvador and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Stetsasonic to the techno 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Yazoo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Donald Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Faraquet,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Drexciya,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
Marvin Gaye,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
Ice-T,
Electric Light Orchestra,
One Last Wish,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Prunes,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
The Barracudas,
Maleditus Sound,
Lyres,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Chris & Cosey,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Cymande,
Ultra Naté,
Lightning Bolt,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Human League,
Aaron Thompson,
The Offenders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Remains,
The Cramps,
The Modern Lovers,
Hot Snakes,
David McCallum,
Sun City Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Brothers Johnson,
Hoover,
Eric Copeland,
Fugazi,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.