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 Somalia and from London.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Khruangbin to the punk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
The Modern Lovers,
UT,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Silicon Teens,
Symarip,
This Heat,
Aural Exciters,
DNA,
Minor Threat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Bar-Kays,
Cymande,
The Evens,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cybotron,
Buzzcocks,
Fatback Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
Tom Boy,
Blake Baxter,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Babytalk,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dirtbombs,
The Names,
Icehouse,
Joyce Sims,
Swell Maps,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spoonie Gee,
The Move,
Jeff Mills,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
Organ,
Pantaleimon,
Glenn Branca,
Hashim,
The Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ornette Coleman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scrapy,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.