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 Algeria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Scientists,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marc Almond,
The Human League,
John Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Animal Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
Toni Rubio,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Simply Red,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Average White Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Zapp,
Wally Richardson,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Talk Talk,
Pierre Henry,
Wasted Youth,
The American Breed,
Michelle Simonal,
Neu!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Gichy Dan,
The Evens,
Henry Cow,
Supertramp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eli Mardock,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
Pussy Galore,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
Japan,
The Fugs,
Minny Pops,
Schoolly D,
Monolake,
Magazine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Golliwogs,
Marine Girls,
Gang Green,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.