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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nation of Ulysses to the techno 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Steve Hackett,
Jawbox,
Rekid,
Ultra Naté,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Tremeloes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Das Ding,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cheater Slicks,
The Pop Group,
Pierre Henry,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Thompson Twins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rapeman,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
The Zeros,
the Bar-Kays,
The Divine Comedy,
Roxy Music,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Grauzone,
The Sound,
Y Pants,
cv313,
World's Most,
R.M.O.,
The Mummies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Derrick May,
Kaleidoscope,
Kas Product,
The Selecter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sixth Finger,
Second Layer,
Matthew Bourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bad Manners,
Quantec,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sound Behaviour,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joyce Sims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.