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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Kerri Chandler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day 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?
Roger Hodgson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ronan,
DJ Style,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Faust,
Oblivians,
Brothers Johnson,
Nils Olav,
Max Romeo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kas Product,
Skarface,
Amazonics,
The Tremeloes,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kayak,
Cal Tjader,
Avey Tare,
Black Moon,
Peter and Kerry,
The Sound,
The Victims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Y Pants,
Flash Fearless,
Mission of Burma,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
Inner City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deepchord,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Misunderstood,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dirtbombs,
Fat Boys,
Technova,
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
The Slackers,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tomorrow,
Mad Mike,
June of 44,
Liliput,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
The Music Machine,
Rites of Spring,
The Saints,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.