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 Korea South and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Popol Vuh,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacques Brel,
FM Einheit,
Intrusion,
Silicon Teens,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
The Barracudas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Trojans,
Alton Ellis,
Cluster,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
E-Dancer,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Pulsallama,
Rapeman,
Talk Talk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
Pantaleimon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Halsall,
Blake Baxter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grauzone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Little Man,
Khruangbin,
The Durutti Column,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
The Red Krayola,
Aswad,
Minor Threat,
Jeff Lynne,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Shoche,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Cramps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Suicide,
Jandek,
Reuben Wilson,
Blancmange,
Con Funk Shun,
Amon Düül II,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.