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 Switzerland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the crunk 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Groovy Waters,
World's Most,
Grey Daturas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minutemen,
The Fortunes,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
The Grass Roots,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Invisible,
Drive Like Jehu,
Outsiders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Schoolly D,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Slick Rick,
Television,
Dawn Penn,
The Mummies,
The Red Krayola,
Wings,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
Al Stewart,
Nick Fraelich,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bad Manners,
Talk Talk,
A Certain Ratio,
June of 44,
Oblivians,
Magma,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Matthew Bourne,
Zapp,
48th St. Collective,
Quantec,
Agent Orange,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Eddi Front,
The Star Department,
The Alarm Clocks,
Andrew Hill,
Minny Pops,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.