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 Botswana and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Suburban Knight to the disco 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Organ,
The Moleskins,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Wake,
Moss Icon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Rakim,
Bill Near,
Darondo,
Masters at Work,
Oneida,
John Lydon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cameo,
Joy Division,
Average White Band,
Henry Cow,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Scrapy,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tommy Roe,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Glenn Branca,
Faraquet,
Das Ding,
The Golliwogs,
Alison Limerick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mission of Burma,
Lalann,
Lindisfarne,
the Slits,
The Invisible,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott Heron,
New Age Steppers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ten City,
U.S. Maple,
Black Pus,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Excepter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Chrome,
Index,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.