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 Barbados and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Crooked Eye to the dance 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Interpol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Siglo XX,
The Searchers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Durutti Column,
Unwound,
Johnny Clarke,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tears for Fears,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Lydon,
Negative Approach,
Maurizio,
Swans,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxy Music,
Infiniti,
Altered Images,
Man Parrish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
10cc,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
The Litter,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Deepchord,
John Cale,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Junior Murvin,
Cameo,
The Offenders,
Peter & Gordon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tim Buckley,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erasure,
The Toasters,
Maleditus Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faraquet,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
Aswad,
Bill Wells,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rod Modell,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.