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 Nauru and from Edmonton.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Brick to the techno 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Dolphy,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
The Cowsills,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Womack,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cure,
Leonard Cohen,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
Fatback Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Altered Images,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Anakelly,
Faraquet,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
Quadrant,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bauhaus,
Wings,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Shoche,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
The Offenders,
Terry Callier,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lungfish,
The Gladiators,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moby Grape,
the Germs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Theoretical Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
The Toasters,
Rufus Thomas,
Depeche Mode,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
The Motions,
Y Pants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.