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 Finland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marc Almond to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Drexciya,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cymande,
Soul Sonic Force,
Simply Red,
DJ Sneak,
the Association,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
E-Dancer,
Underground Resistance,
The Associates,
Glenn Branca,
The Searchers,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
David Axelrod,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharoah Sanders,
Circle Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aswad,
Sarah Menescal,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Bang On A Can,
Essential Logic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Depeche Mode,
LL Cool J,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
Rakim,
The New Christs,
Josef K,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Invisible,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kayak,
Stiv Bators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quadrant,
Harmonia,
Mandrill,
F. McDonald,
Adolescents,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.