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 Finland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the punk 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Desert Stars,
Alton Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grauzone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Sherman,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Görl,
Flash Fearless,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Skaos,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barry Ungar,
New Order,
Bootsy Collins,
Donny Hathaway,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mad Mike,
Rekid,
Monolake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Motions,
JFA,
Oneida,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Curtis Mayfield,
The Red Krayola,
The Toasters,
Man Parrish,
The Leaves,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Altered Images,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
AZ,
The Divine Comedy,
Boz Scaggs,
The Buckinghams,
Peter & Gordon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
LL Cool J,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Brick,
Lower 48,
D'Angelo,
The Birthday Party,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.