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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Laurel Aitken to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Jesper Dahlback,
Das Ding,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Grey Daturas,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Womack,
K-Klass,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Teasers,
Alton Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zapp,
Pierre Henry,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Albert Ayler,
The Doors,
Chris Corsano,
The Young Rascals,
Loose Ends,
Matthew Halsall,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lucky Dragons,
Liliput,
Michelle Simonal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marshall Jefferson,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fugs,
Index,
The Index,
Khruangbin,
Howard Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arthur Verocai,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül II,
L. Decosne,
Pere Ubu,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.