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 Jamaica and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 Glenn Branca to the funk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Lindisfarne,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gories,
Matthew Bourne,
Yaz,
10cc,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Carl Craig,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
New York Dolls,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Easy Going,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Deakin,
Dead Boys,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
Crispian St. Peters,
CMW,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Basic Channel,
Sugar Minott,
Radio Birdman,
The Cowsills,
Von Mondo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Schoolly D,
Erasure,
Steve Hackett,
Yusef Lateef,
Bluetip,
Vladislav Delay,
Freddie Wadling,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
Porter Ricks,
Black Sheep,
Cluster,
Pantytec,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.