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 Eritrea and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Make Up to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye,
Livin' Joy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Carl Craig,
Ituana,
The Fortunes,
Connie Case,
Sun City Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Mr. Review,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
Cybotron,
Harmonia,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
The Searchers,
The Velvet Underground,
Slick Rick,
Second Layer,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Oblivians,
The Happenings,
DJ Style,
Can,
Television,
Aswad,
Fatback Band,
Quando Quango,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roxette,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Trojans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The United States of America,
Suicide,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
Peter and Kerry,
Wings,
Oneida,
Marcia Griffiths,
Godley & Creme,
the Association,
Rekid,
David McCallum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wally Richardson,
Absolute Body Control,
Icehouse,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sonics,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nils Olav,
H. Thieme,
Anakelly,
Talk Talk,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.