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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 The Cowsills to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Aswad,
Deepchord,
Eddi Front,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
The Litter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Victims,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Interpol,
Joy Division,
Black Flag,
Cybotron,
Scrapy,
The Beau Brummels,
Kas Product,
Darondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Busters,
Nirvana,
The Neon Judgement,
The Names,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
Mission of Burma,
Funky Four + One,
Intrusion,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rufus Thomas,
Half Japanese,
Minny Pops,
Dorothy Ashby,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Leonard Cohen,
Lower 48,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Ponytail,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amazonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Newcleus,
Tres Demented,
Blancmange,
Fluxion,
Banda Bassotti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
David Axelrod,
Bauhaus,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.