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 United States and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 American Breed to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Last Poets,
Bauhaus,
Aswad,
Sam Rivers,
Joey Negro,
Ludus,
The Toasters,
Symarip,
Bob Dylan,
Stereo Dub,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gap Band,
Arcadia,
Arthur Verocai,
Darondo,
Boredoms,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
The Leaves,
Danielle Patucci,
Connie Case,
Patti Smith,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
The Trojans,
Hot Snakes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swans,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Monks,
Ronan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David Axelrod,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
Pet Shop Boys,
Funkadelic,
Television,
Cymande,
The Electric Prunes,
the Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Pantytec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Drexciya,
Charles Mingus,
Q65,
Nas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
B.T. Express,
June Days,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.