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 Gabon and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pet Shop Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood 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?
The Martian,
Scientists,
Urselle,
The Golliwogs,
Sugar Minott,
Anakelly,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Starr,
Rod Modell,
Toni Rubio,
Sixth Finger,
Rekid,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Tears for Fears,
Khruangbin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Byrd,
CMW,
Dorothy Ashby,
Juan Atkins,
Max Romeo,
Panda Bear,
The Gap Band,
Pagans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Zeros,
The Raincoats,
OOIOO,
Judy Mowatt,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Ultra Naté,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ornette Coleman,
Rakim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
PIL,
Lakeside,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Susan Cadogan,
Half Japanese,
Whodini,
Swans,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
Aloha Tigers,
The Blues Magoos,
Pantaleimon,
Morten Harket,
the Association,
Parry Music,
Accadde A,
Von Mondo,
Arab on Radar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Underground Resistance,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.