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 Armenia and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Vladislav Delay to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
New York Dolls,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
Symarip,
Eddi Front,
Joensuu 1685,
Max Romeo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scrapy,
Joe Smooth,
Duran Duran,
The Gories,
Chrome,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rapeman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Prince Buster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry's Kids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
In Retrospect,
Smog,
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
Janne Schatter,
Blossom Toes,
Rosa Yemen,
Thee Headcoats,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
The Durutti Column,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
Au Pairs,
Ohio Players,
DJ Style,
Niagra,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Pagans,
Unwound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.