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 Ecuador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun Ra Arkestra 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mummies,
Amazonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Kinks,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
Anthony Braxton,
Cymande,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
The New Christs,
Y Pants,
Infiniti,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Human League,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Pierre Henry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Howard Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Erasure,
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
Rekid,
K-Klass,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pussy Galore,
The Toasters,
Thompson Twins,
Suicide,
Black Pus,
10cc,
Steve Hackett,
China Crisis,
Grauzone,
A Certain Ratio,
Ornette Coleman,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Little Man,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
Letta Mbulu,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.