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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Grass Roots to the techno 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
Country Teasers,
Radio Birdman,
Qualms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
China Crisis,
Matthew Halsall,
Grauzone,
Monolake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Circle Jerks,
the Association,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric Copeland,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cramps,
Carl Craig,
Cymande,
The Young Rascals,
Quadrant,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Ohio Players,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Lakeside,
Aaron Thompson,
Dawn Penn,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Darondo,
KRS-One,
Model 500,
Ludus,
The Star Department,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.