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 Mauritania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 L. Decosne to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Bill Wells,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
Eli Mardock,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minutemen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Toasters,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker,
The Angels of Light,
Bad Manners,
Model 500,
Public Enemy,
Harmonia,
cv313,
Ten City,
Gang Starr,
Desert Stars,
MC5,
Talk Talk,
Ponytail,
Rosa Yemen,
Patti Smith,
OOIOO,
D'Angelo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Halsall,
Deepchord,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Oblivians,
Yellowson,
Moby Grape,
Pole,
Urselle,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxy Music,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül,
The Fuzztones,
Wolf Eyes,
the Bar-Kays,
Second Layer,
Josef K,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
Youth Brigade,
Stockholm Monsters,
Faraquet,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.