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 United Kingdom and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ohio Players to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Popol Vuh,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scrapy,
Scientists,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Sandy B,
Sugar Minott,
Howard Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radio Birdman,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
Vainqueur,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Teasers,
the Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Arthur Verocai,
the Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
Prince Buster,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.