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 Israel and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
The Motions,
Essential Logic,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Roxette,
Harmonia,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dead Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Animal Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fortunes,
Lungfish,
the Association,
The Gories,
The Music Machine,
Thompson Twins,
The Black Dice,
The Raincoats,
Average White Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
Cecil Taylor,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Divine Comedy,
Althea and Donna,
Sixth Finger,
Wings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Sheep,
Nils Olav,
Carl Craig,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television,
The Smiths,
Sam Rivers,
Dark Day,
The American Breed,
Spandau Ballet,
PIL,
Gerry Rafferty,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Angels of Light,
Hardrive,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
Minor Threat,
Negative Approach,
Faraquet,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.