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 Swaziland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare 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 Jimmy McGriff to the electroclash 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
Supertramp,
Fad Gadget,
Section 25,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Shoche,
The Monochrome Set,
Maleditus Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mighty Diamonds,
B.T. Express,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Toasters,
Fela Kuti,
Barbara Tucker,
The Litter,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fatback Band,
Ituana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Starr,
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Busters,
Zapp,
Ponytail,
Aswad,
The Zeros,
China Crisis,
Bobby Womack,
Rites of Spring,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed,
Fear,
Nico,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
Animal Collective,
Rotary Connection,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hardrive,
Gong,
The Sound,
Deakin,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Siglo XX,
Angry Samoans,
Eden Ahbez,
The Shadows of Knight,
Youth Brigade,
D'Angelo,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.