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 Brunei and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Patti Smith,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fatback Band,
Lightning Bolt,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harry Pussy,
Toni Rubio,
Spandau Ballet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Smooth,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Flipper,
Groovy Waters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radio Birdman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Birthday Party,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Yusef Lateef,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Donny Hathaway,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
Althea and Donna,
The Slits,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
The Moody Blues,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers,
The Offenders,
New York Dolls,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.