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 Japan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the rap 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Laurel Aitken,
Bush Tetras,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heaven 17,
Black Flag,
Minny Pops,
Marvin Gaye,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Juan Atkins,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cramps,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
Organ,
PIL,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sandy B,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Young Marble Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Hood,
Gang of Four,
The Raincoats,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Normal,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Khruangbin,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
Trumans Water,
Josef K,
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Ornette Coleman,
Alton Ellis,
Dark Day,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gabor Szabo,
Lightning Bolt,
Lucky Dragons,
Bill Near,
Lakeside,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.