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 Antigua and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
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 synthesizer 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 The Star Department to the jazz 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
the Bar-Kays,
Slick Rick,
Barrington Levy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
Pagans,
Black Bananas,
Easy Going,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Mad Mike,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Niagra,
Average White Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
The Smiths,
The Sound,
The Remains,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Style,
Wolf Eyes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mantronix,
The Vogues,
Soulsonic Force,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blake Baxter,
Skriet,
The Kinks,
Colin Newman,
Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Icehouse,
Moby Grape,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Derrick Morgan,
B.T. Express,
The Stooges,
Cecil Taylor,
Buzzcocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Aswad,
Youth Brigade,
Lee Hazlewood,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suburban Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
Magazine,
One Last Wish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Babytalk,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.