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 Laos and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Happenings to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
Laurel Aitken,
Newcleus,
Wings,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
48th St. Collective,
Joy Division,
Sparks,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Blackbyrds,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
Lightning Bolt,
Glenn Branca,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Young Rascals,
Kenny Larkin,
Barbara Tucker,
Flipper,
Alton Ellis,
The Music Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Ice-T,
The Red Krayola,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Maurizio,
Subhumans,
Freddie Wadling,
Erasure,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hasil Adkins,
Duran Duran,
Massinfluence,
Trumans Water,
Audionom,
Brick,
Roxy Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dead Boys,
B.T. Express,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Pop Group,
The Cramps,
Lungfish,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.