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 Ecuador and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Erasure to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Pus,
The Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Lynne,
Tom Boy,
The Monochrome Set,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Goldenarms,
Roger Hodgson,
Harry Pussy,
Colin Newman,
Rapeman,
The Black Dice,
Model 500,
The Pretty Things,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Gang Green,
Monolake,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Clear Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Techniques,
LL Cool J,
The Birthday Party,
Cal Tjader,
Ronan,
the Normal,
Index,
The Evens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ituana,
The Red Krayola,
K-Klass,
Second Layer,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Stooges,
Reagan Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tubeway Army,
Minnie Riperton,
The Vogues,
UT,
Black Flag,
The Raincoats,
John Coltrane,
Alton Ellis,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.