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 Equatorial Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 H. Thieme to the rock 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bronski Beat,
U.S. Maple,
The Shadows of Knight,
Smog,
Grauzone,
Country Teasers,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Deadbeat,
Marc Almond,
The Leaves,
David McCallum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
Schoolly D,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joey Negro,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minny Pops,
DJ Sneak,
Gerry Rafferty,
D'Angelo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Osbourne,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
the Normal,
Ultra Naté,
Television Personalities,
Agitation Free,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
Jawbox,
Morten Harket,
Crime,
Nico,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cal Tjader,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Idris Muhammad,
Loose Ends,
Minor Threat,
The Toasters,
Howard Jones,
Piero Umiliani,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
Kaleidoscope,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Pussy Galore,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.