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 Senegal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the punk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Barry Ungar,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang Green,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gong,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cowsills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scan 7,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tim Buckley,
Fad Gadget,
David Bowie,
The Dirtbombs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Audionom,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas,
Grauzone,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
Von Mondo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Black Dice,
Kenny Larkin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
Lyres,
Crime,
Black Moon,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Kinks,
June Days,
Skarface,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sparks,
Altered Images,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.