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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Duran Duran to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Darondo,
The Durutti Column,
Spoonie Gee,
Fatback Band,
Hashim,
Index,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
Joyce Sims,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cheater Slicks,
OOIOO,
Juan Atkins,
Shoche,
The Last Poets,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sugar Minott,
Babytalk,
Zero Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Procol Harum,
Graham Central Station,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grey Daturas,
The Misunderstood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Funky Four + One,
Deepchord,
Saccharine Trust,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Lydon,
Brand Nubian,
Von Mondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxette,
Essential Logic,
Faraquet,
Matthew Bourne,
Whodini,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
Wings,
Blake Baxter,
Slick Rick,
Duran Duran,
E-Dancer,
Section 25,
Magazine,
Rod Modell,
Al Stewart,
Sonic Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.