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 Russia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Ohio Players to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Rotary Connection,
U.S. Maple,
Wire,
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
Kurtis Blow,
Technova,
Lou Reed,
Fatback Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slackers,
Outsiders,
Pole,
The Detroit Cobras,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
Iggy Pop,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
Brick,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
a-ha,
Fugazi,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
Massinfluence,
10cc,
The Leaves,
Fela Kuti,
Japan,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Trojans,
MDC,
The Birthday Party,
Wolf Eyes,
Thee Headcoats,
Aural Exciters,
Idris Muhammad,
Cluster,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
The Mummies,
Kevin Saunderson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magazine,
Roy Ayers,
Swans,
The Gun Club,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.