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 Benin and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Adolescents,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
The Electric Prunes,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
Vladislav Delay,
Drexciya,
Pussy Galore,
Surgeon,
Visage,
Mission of Burma,
Kas Product,
Johnny Clarke,
Hashim,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
The Selecter,
Rites of Spring,
Kaleidoscope,
Harpers Bizarre,
Saccharine Trust,
CMW,
The Moody Blues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Make Up,
Organ,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
New Order,
LL Cool J,
Ultravox,
Wings,
Sandy B,
Sister Nancy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
Country Teasers,
The Standells,
Oblivians,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Flag,
Black Sheep,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Trojans,
Letta Mbulu,
UT,
Skarface,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Alison Limerick,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.