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 Cameroon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Fat Boys to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Suicide,
Bluetip,
John Coltrane,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Lynne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kenny Larkin,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Letta Mbulu,
Aural Exciters,
Idris Muhammad,
Lindisfarne,
Urselle,
Banda Bassotti,
Scientists,
Goldenarms,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cecil Taylor,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
The Buckinghams,
The Sound,
Sixth Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxette,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Yellowson,
Monolake,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers,
The Vogues,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Hill,
The Grass Roots,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
Laurel Aitken,
Aswad,
Bobby Womack,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Grandmaster Flash,
Chrome,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
The Searchers,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.