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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Inner City to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Black Dice,
Eli Mardock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Audionom,
Dual Sessions,
The Residents,
John Holt,
Hashim,
The Names,
ABBA,
Desert Stars,
The Golliwogs,
The Mummies,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Urselle,
Bobby Sherman,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Barracudas,
Rekid,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scott Walker,
Sonny Sharrock,
These Immortal Souls,
Chrome,
It's A Beautiful Day,
cv313,
Second Layer,
Adolescents,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Byrd,
Pylon,
the Bar-Kays,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Pole,
Roger Hodgson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Accadde A,
Minnie Riperton,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Copeland,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Blackbyrds,
Aloha Tigers,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.