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 Paraguay and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cowsills,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
Brothers Johnson,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger,
Joy Division,
Yellowson,
Byron Stingily,
Liliput,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
Oblivians,
Barry Ungar,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Near,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Howard Jones,
The Motions,
Godley & Creme,
Amazonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
EPMD,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
Underground Resistance,
Blancmange,
Blake Baxter,
Tim Buckley,
Qualms,
Nirvana,
Avey Tare,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
Albert Ayler,
Joe Finger,
Harmonia,
Buzzcocks,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
DJ Sneak,
The Residents,
Harpers Bizarre,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.