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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dirtbombs to the disco 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Offenders,
Aaron Thompson,
The Saints,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
Matthew Bourne,
Chrome,
Maurizio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
Country Teasers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Zeros,
The Pop Group,
The Victims,
Laurel Aitken,
Moss Icon,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pretty Things,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Section 25,
Magazine,
Sandy B,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Audionom,
Cluster,
June Days,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Trumans Water,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Certain Ratio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mad Mike,
the Germs,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dirtbombs,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.