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 South Africa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Peter & Gordon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mummies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
The Invisible,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
Suicide,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ralphi Rosario,
T.S.O.L.,
Ice-T,
Don Cherry,
Wire,
This Heat,
Bill Near,
Ornette Coleman,
Jeff Mills,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Zero Boys,
DNA,
Bad Manners,
Liliput,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Moby Grape,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
Vainqueur,
Sarah Menescal,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
L. Decosne,
Barrington Levy,
The Tremeloes,
Schoolly D,
Hardrive,
Q65,
New York Dolls,
The Cramps,
The Selecter,
The Pop Group,
Bluetip,
Gregory Isaacs,
Oneida,
The Doors,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
Porter Ricks,
Black Flag,
Camberwell Now,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
Bizarre Inc.,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.