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 Tajikistan and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 The Barracudas to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Wolf Eyes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Cybotron,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun City Girls,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
X-101,
The American Breed,
The Count Five,
Skaos,
DNA,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Motions,
Stetsasonic,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pole,
Camouflage,
Jerry's Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aloha Tigers,
Tubeway Army,
Scott Walker,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kaleidoscope,
Flamin' Groovies,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
E-Dancer,
Technova,
Peter and Kerry,
Junior Murvin,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bad Manners,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Schoolly D,
The Slits,
Eddi Front,
The Litter,
Grey Daturas,
Moebius,
World's Most,
Agitation Free,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pylon,
The Move,
Andrew Hill,
Quadrant,
L. Decosne,
Deepchord,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.