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 Comoros and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terry Callier to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
Juan Atkins,
Black Pus,
Wally Richardson,
Wolf Eyes,
This Heat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moody Blues,
The Fuzztones,
Lyres,
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ronnie Foster,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
Dark Day,
Anthony Braxton,
Brand Nubian,
Marmalade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Von Mondo,
Maurizio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yazoo,
Ituana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Grey Daturas,
Cymande,
Scott Walker,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Names,
Organ,
The Pretty Things,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
La Düsseldorf,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Sonics,
Ossler,
kango's stein massive,
The Toasters,
The Monochrome Set,
The Techniques,
Alison Limerick,
Sparks,
Camouflage,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.