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 Afghanistan and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Michael McDonald 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 Thee Headcoats to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Faraquet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Danielle Patucci,
Eden Ahbez,
Tubeway Army,
Black Sheep,
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Anakelly,
Sight & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Accadde A,
The Residents,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Stooges,
Blancmange,
Brass Construction,
OOIOO,
Panda Bear,
The Fugs,
Bobby Byrd,
Slave,
Aloha Tigers,
Tears for Fears,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
Sixth Finger,
Patti Smith,
The Slits,
Flipper,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Roy Ayers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
Radio Birdman,
Joey Negro,
The Vogues,
Underground Resistance,
Spandau Ballet,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kenny Larkin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Divine Comedy,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
Rakim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
Quando Quango,
Hot Snakes,
Boz Scaggs,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.