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 Philippines and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Arcadia,
Bluetip,
Swell Maps,
Maurizio,
Aloha Tigers,
Yazoo,
John Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Black Flag,
Byron Stingily,
L. Decosne,
Clear Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dave Clark Five,
June Days,
Dual Sessions,
The Moleskins,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
The Sound,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
The Offenders,
Pantaleimon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Interpol,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
Alice Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
Pantytec,
Brass Construction,
Agent Orange,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Flipper,
Robert Görl,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Axelrod,
La Düsseldorf,
Young Marble Giants,
Deepchord,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lungfish,
Sex Pistols,
Donny Hathaway,
World's Most,
Piero Umiliani,
LL Cool J,
Easy Going,
Visage,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.