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 Liberia and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the disco 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
The Invisible,
Whodini,
Livin' Joy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
cv313,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
H. Thieme,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soft Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Faraquet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oneida,
X-101,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Babytalk,
In Retrospect,
Ronan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Steve Hackett,
Ornette Coleman,
Malaria!,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultravox,
MDC,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.