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 Uganda and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Todd Terry,
Fela Kuti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marmalade,
Arcadia,
Ohio Players,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pylon,
Amon Düül,
Deakin,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moebius,
Depeche Mode,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brand Nubian,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
CMW,
Lee Hazlewood,
Surgeon,
Ludus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Faust,
Television,
Vainqueur,
Junior Murvin,
the Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Agent Orange,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Dolphy,
Eli Mardock,
Camouflage,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sixth Finger,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pole,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
Sarah Menescal,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.