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 Gabon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nico to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Marmalade,
Harmonia,
Jawbox,
Fluxion,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Jandek,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
48th St. Collective,
The Cure,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
Yellowson,
Zero Boys,
Alison Limerick,
John Holt,
Roxette,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Techniques,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sight & Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
New Age Steppers,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Accadde A,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
Altered Images,
Kas Product,
The United States of America,
The Misunderstood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
The Raincoats,
John Foxx,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deepchord,
Joe Smooth,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Coltrane,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.