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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Holger Czukay 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 Mission of Burma to the crunk 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics 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?
Bronski Beat,
Bill Near,
Bobby Womack,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jandek,
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
Oblivians,
Los Fastidios,
John Holt,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
June Days,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Derrick Morgan,
Jawbox,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
Slave,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Funky Four + One,
Marmalade,
the Association,
Bush Tetras,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Wells,
Siglo XX,
Eden Ahbez,
Q65,
Minnie Riperton,
Silicon Teens,
Judy Mowatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Vainqueur,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pole,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ponytail,
Visage,
Joe Smooth,
Rotary Connection,
Laurel Aitken,
The Standells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rhythm & Sound,
H. Thieme,
Funkadelic,
Toni Rubio,
Warsaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Tom Boy,
Hoover,
Arthur Verocai,
Thee Headcoats,
Second Layer,
Audionom,
Make Up,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.