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 Philippines and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Gong,
KRS-One,
Grauzone,
Rosa Yemen,
The Residents,
Susan Cadogan,
Boredoms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-102,
E-Dancer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Count Five,
Soft Machine,
Sixth Finger,
The Remains,
Gastr Del Sol,
Shuggie Otis,
Stiv Bators,
The Velvet Underground,
Smog,
Simply Red,
Ohio Players,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roy Ayers,
Man Parrish,
Niagra,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
Franke,
Bob Dylan,
ABC,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Morten Harket,
Procol Harum,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moss Icon,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
Pantaleimon,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
Mars,
Reagan Youth,
Icehouse,
Masters at Work,
Drexciya,
The Red Krayola,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric Copeland,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.