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 Somalia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Janne Schatter,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
Hasil Adkins,
Albert Ayler,
Das Ding,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
ABBA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Reagan Youth,
Amon Düül,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sound Behaviour,
Outsiders,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slackers,
Icehouse,
Junior Murvin,
Fad Gadget,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Gladiators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker,
Masters at Work,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young,
The Vogues,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Aaron Thompson,
The Techniques,
Matthew Bourne,
Darondo,
Prince Buster,
The Blues Magoos,
Accadde A,
Stereo Dub,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
Roxy Music,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo,
Moebius,
Joensuu 1685,
Theoretical Girls,
Urselle,
Duran Duran,
Eden Ahbez,
Piero Umiliani,
Tomorrow,
Can,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.