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 Malta and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Human League,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
Trumans Water,
Tim Buckley,
Pagans,
Marmalade,
Symarip,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Flag,
Arthur Verocai,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yellowson,
In Retrospect,
Joensuu 1685,
Mission of Burma,
Henry Cow,
10cc,
Jeru the Damaja,
Youth Brigade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Model 500,
The Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
Au Pairs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Supertramp,
the Sonics,
John Foxx,
Intrusion,
Index,
Gichy Dan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rhythm & Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Crooked Eye,
Barrington Levy,
Mo-Dettes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Beau Brummels,
Easy Going,
Visage,
Inner City,
Japan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dead Boys,
T. Rex,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brothers Johnson,
The Velvet Underground,
Buzzcocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
Ice-T,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.