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 Venezuela and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Section 25 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sandy B,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
The Saints,
Aloha Tigers,
Suburban Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Second Layer,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
The Monochrome Set,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Womack,
Ohio Players,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Gap Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Lindisfarne,
Slave,
Arcadia,
FM Einheit,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Altered Images,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Kinks,
F. McDonald,
Sun City Girls,
The Cramps,
H. Thieme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Negative Approach,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
Dual Sessions,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
The Black Dice,
MC5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
The Red Krayola,
Royal Trux,
The Sound,
The Names,
Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.