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 Nepal and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Dawn Penn to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Goldenarms,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Blossom Toes,
Mantronix,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gories,
Yellowson,
Desert Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Amon Düül,
Robert Hood,
Anakelly,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The American Breed,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cramps,
Gang of Four,
Flash Fearless,
Motorama,
Crooked Eye,
Babytalk,
Rekid,
Index,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Symarip,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
Agitation Free,
Maurizio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quantec,
Visage,
The Doors,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Swans,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Ronnie Foster,
Harmonia,
the Slits,
The Black Dice,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
the Bar-Kays,
David Bowie,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sällskapet,
The Cure,
Nirvana,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
Alphaville,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.