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 Ethiopia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Electric Prunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Happenings,
Urselle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sight & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Henry Cow,
Hoover,
The Slits,
Kurtis Blow,
Judy Mowatt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Franke,
Kayak,
John Foxx,
The Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Von Mondo,
Iggy Pop,
Black Moon,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brothers Johnson,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Bananas,
The Beau Brummels,
Lungfish,
Spandau Ballet,
Mark Hollis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
Trumans Water,
Flash Fearless,
FM Einheit,
Spoonie Gee,
Lindisfarne,
Deepchord,
MC5,
Pierre Henry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fuzztones,
Zero Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
The Last Poets,
JFA,
The Human League,
Mantronix,
Rufus Thomas,
Sällskapet,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.