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 Pakistan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Howard Jones,
Funky Four + One,
Tim Buckley,
DJ Style,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Knickerbockers,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masters at Work,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lou Reed,
Reagan Youth,
Q65,
Section 25,
David McCallum,
Tears for Fears,
Unrelated Segments,
Piero Umiliani,
The Neon Judgement,
Crooked Eye,
Mr. Review,
Bob Dylan,
Silicon Teens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
Neil Young,
AZ,
The Durutti Column,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slackers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Halsall,
Massinfluence,
H. Thieme,
The Birthday Party,
Altered Images,
The Detroit Cobras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
Nas,
cv313,
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Monks,
Franke,
the Bar-Kays,
Moby Grape,
Peter & Gordon,
The Litter,
Little Man,
The Busters,
The Fugs,
Ohio Players,
China Crisis,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.