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 San Marino and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Ultra Naté to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Sherman,
Main Source,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
The Vogues,
Eve St. Jones,
Amazonics,
The Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lightning Bolt,
Television Personalities,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ituana,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Icehouse,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fluxion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric Dolphy,
Swell Maps,
Gang Green,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alice Coltrane,
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
Scratch Acid,
Nils Olav,
Soul II Soul,
Delta 5,
Sparks,
Janne Schatter,
Tommy Roe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neil Young,
Motorama,
Pylon,
Godley & Creme,
Scientists,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
Ossler,
Smog,
Sällskapet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Visage,
Susan Cadogan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
The Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
The Gories,
The Moody Blues,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cluster,
Maurizio,
Mary Jane Girls,
AZ,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.