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 Lebanon and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 The Busters to the grunge 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rosa Yemen,
The Searchers,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
Boz Scaggs,
Jandek,
Sight & Sound,
The Saints,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Angry Samoans,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
Camouflage,
the Association,
Rites of Spring,
Make Up,
Spoonie Gee,
Tom Boy,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Bananas,
Blake Baxter,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
The Doors,
Sonic Youth,
The Kinks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joy Division,
Ten City,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rekid,
Supertramp,
Lucky Dragons,
Animal Collective,
The Mummies,
The Evens,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Cymande,
Graham Central Station,
D'Angelo,
Quantec,
PIL,
Ultra Naté,
Bad Manners,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pole,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
kango's stein massive,
Crooked Eye,
Dead Boys,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.