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 the UAE and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hot Snakes to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
These Immortal Souls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mars,
In Retrospect,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Von Mondo,
Rhythm & Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
Young Marble Giants,
Animal Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Darondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Max Romeo,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Freddie Wadling,
The New Christs,
Howard Jones,
Duran Duran,
Danielle Patucci,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
Sandy B,
Hardrive,
The Mummies,
The Last Poets,
Reuben Wilson,
Stiv Bators,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Michelle Simonal,
The Trojans,
Rites of Spring,
Bush Tetras,
Hasil Adkins,
Soft Machine,
Black Sheep,
Quadrant,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Swell Maps,
The Pretty Things,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.