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 Singapore and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Star Department to the grunge 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Foxx,
Matthew Halsall,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric Copeland,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Intrusion,
Kerri Chandler,
U.S. Maple,
Gastr Del Sol,
Adolescents,
Lower 48,
Parry Music,
The Remains,
Y Pants,
Sight & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
The Knickerbockers,
Jawbox,
Wolf Eyes,
Smog,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Green,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Nils Olav,
Barrington Levy,
Ituana,
Todd Terry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Camberwell Now,
Lakeside,
Sister Nancy,
Howard Jones,
FM Einheit,
Camouflage,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-102,
Gabor Szabo,
A Certain Ratio,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
R.M.O.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rosa Yemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.