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 Brunei and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
E-Dancer,
Severed Heads,
The Cosmic Jokers,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crime,
X-Ray Spex,
Arcadia,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul II Soul,
Man Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
Monolake,
Buzzcocks,
Maurizio,
OOIOO,
Angry Samoans,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
The Misunderstood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Anakelly,
Robert Hood,
Kenny Larkin,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Animal Collective,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marvin Gaye,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sarah Menescal,
Erasure,
T. Rex,
Duran Duran,
Lungfish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pulsallama,
Agent Orange,
Camberwell Now,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun Ra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
This Heat,
Wings,
Harpers Bizarre,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tears for Fears,
Aswad,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
Gong,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roger Hodgson,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.