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 Honduras and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kerrie Biddell to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
The Vogues,
Bill Wells,
Siglo XX,
Whodini,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Motions,
The Neon Judgement,
Mr. Review,
Donald Byrd,
Stereo Dub,
Nirvana,
Underground Resistance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terry Callier,
Shuggie Otis,
Depeche Mode,
Sam Rivers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Grass Roots,
a-ha,
Dead Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Lee Hazlewood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Smog,
Yazoo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unwound,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
Archie Shepp,
The Remains,
Maleditus Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Iggy Pop,
Juan Atkins,
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
The Sound,
JFA,
The Leaves,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
Soft Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tears for Fears,
B.T. Express,
Robert Wyatt,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.