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 Somalia and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Soulsonic Force,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moby Grape,
Roger Hodgson,
Michelle Simonal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxette,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
Alton Ellis,
Hoover,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Five Americans,
New Age Steppers,
Grauzone,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
Todd Terry,
The Trojans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Seeds,
Amon Düül II,
Little Man,
Newcleus,
PIL,
Average White Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Steve Hackett,
Eli Mardock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Organ,
Stiv Bators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Offenders,
Sällskapet,
Pantaleimon,
Thompson Twins,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy Collins,
The Stooges,
Wings,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eden Ahbez,
The Black Dice,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.