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 Jamaica and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the rock 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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mr. Review,
Fela Kuti,
Surgeon,
Kool Moe Dee,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Whodini,
Joe Smooth,
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Flag,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Normal,
Rites of Spring,
Scrapy,
This Heat,
Amazonics,
The Barracudas,
The Misunderstood,
June of 44,
Pere Ubu,
Michelle Simonal,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Joyce Sims,
Von Mondo,
Janne Schatter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pagans,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Jandek,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Popol Vuh,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
It's A Beautiful Day,
10cc,
PIL,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
L. Decosne,
Throbbing Gristle,
In Retrospect,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zero Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
Interpol,
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.