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 Bahamas and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
The Index,
Boz Scaggs,
Con Funk Shun,
The Wake,
Royal Trux,
Cameo,
Subhumans,
Sparks,
Lungfish,
The Music Machine,
Scion,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Starr,
L. Decosne,
Fela Kuti,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warsaw,
the Swans,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Byrd,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yusef Lateef,
Piero Umiliani,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glambeats Corp.,
KRS-One,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang of Four,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
The Last Poets,
Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole,
The Trojans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joyce Sims,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Crooked Eye,
Grauzone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Thee Headcoats,
Japan,
The Fall,
Ten City,
Alice Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
Magma,
Soft Machine,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.