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 Bulgaria and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 The Gladiators to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Neon Judgement,
the Swans,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
Don Cherry,
The Slits,
Bob Dylan,
Aloha Tigers,
The Searchers,
Interpol,
These Immortal Souls,
Kurtis Blow,
Susan Cadogan,
Clear Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Sällskapet,
Wings,
Godley & Creme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Motions,
Zapp,
Juan Atkins,
Cecil Taylor,
Sparks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Trumans Water,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
Black Pus,
Swell Maps,
ABC,
Idris Muhammad,
Blossom Toes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Young Rascals,
World's Most,
DJ Sneak,
Brothers Johnson,
The Move,
Vladislav Delay,
The Grass Roots,
Fatback Band,
Monks,
Crooked Eye,
Lower 48,
Mandrill,
Amon Düül,
Bizarre Inc.,
Smog,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jawbox,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.