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 Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 F. McDonald to the disco 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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The United States of America,
Blancmange,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Buckinghams,
Scott Walker,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
Organ,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Smoke,
Interpol,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
Electric Light Orchestra,
This Heat,
Inner City,
Todd Terry,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
48th St. Collective,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Hashim,
June Days,
Lungfish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Jawbox,
Ludus,
Morten Harket,
The Trojans,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
One Last Wish,
Newcleus,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gladiators,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Offenders,
The Smiths,
Tubeway Army,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
Metal Thangz,
Dave Gahan,
Siglo XX,
Procol Harum,
The Standells,
H. Thieme,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ituana,
Groovy Waters,
The Remains,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.