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 Mexico and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the punk 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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Dawn Penn,
Mars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moebius,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eddi Front,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
Easy Going,
Hot Snakes,
Technova,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Cal Tjader,
Minny Pops,
cv313,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonny Sharrock,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Minutemen,
Banda Bassotti,
The Zeros,
Rekid,
Mark Hollis,
Scrapy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Qualms,
Marc Almond,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Mills,
Mandrill,
Icehouse,
Television,
The Invisible,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
Visage,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jawbox,
Joey Negro,
Eric Copeland,
The Dead C,
Bill Near,
Loose Ends,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
kango's stein massive,
The Remains,
The Sisters of Mercy,
MC5,
Tommy Roe,
Excepter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Quantec,
Boz Scaggs,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.