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 Tanzania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Slackers,
The New Christs,
Matthew Bourne,
Davy DMX,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fatback Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
Hasil Adkins,
Chrome,
The Associates,
Bronski Beat,
Skaos,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Piero Umiliani,
The Fire Engines,
Arthur Verocai,
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Section 25,
Minutemen,
Negative Approach,
Black Sheep,
Vainqueur,
Index,
Fluxion,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Symarip,
Moss Icon,
FM Einheit,
The Standells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Can,
Juan Atkins,
Malaria!,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Fuzztones,
Minnie Riperton,
Graham Central Station,
Underground Resistance,
Aaron Thompson,
Lower 48,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Robert Hood,
Procol Harum,
Tommy Roe,
Pere Ubu,
Don Cherry,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
Mission of Burma,
the Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.