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 Marshall Islands and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 arpeggiator 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 Altered Images to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
The Cure,
the Human League,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
B.T. Express,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Donny Hathaway,
The Vogues,
The Leaves,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Mission of Burma,
Maleditus Sound,
Warsaw,
The Martian,
Alton Ellis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantaleimon,
Marvin Gaye,
Model 500,
Black Bananas,
Sugar Minott,
Technova,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young,
Graham Central Station,
Negative Approach,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
The Wake,
Aswad,
June of 44,
The Move,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Stiv Bators,
Public Enemy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Loose Ends,
Marmalade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
The Red Krayola,
Black Sheep,
The Dead C,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.