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 Italy and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Black Moon to the grime 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers,
Mars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jawbox,
Tres Demented,
cv313,
Blake Baxter,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Skriet,
The Dirtbombs,
Massinfluence,
The Gladiators,
Scrapy,
Rakim,
The Electric Prunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Flipper,
Magazine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Outsiders,
Pantytec,
the Bar-Kays,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
EPMD,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
The Fugs,
Schoolly D,
Flash Fearless,
Monolake,
Mission of Burma,
Cymande,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Lynne,
Bob Dylan,
A Certain Ratio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Reagan Youth,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Residents,
The Selecter,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
The Doors,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.