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 Belize and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Carl Craig to the dance 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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shoche,
Dorothy Ashby,
New Age Steppers,
Harry Pussy,
The Martian,
Flipper,
Au Pairs,
Erasure,
The Searchers,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Can,
Zero Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Whodini,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gichy Dan,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
Bootsy Collins,
Smog,
Camberwell Now,
the Normal,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
The Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monochrome Set,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Darondo,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fela Kuti,
Hoover,
Michelle Simonal,
Hot Snakes,
Lindisfarne,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed,
Urselle,
the Slits,
Yellowson,
Stereo Dub,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Offenders,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
Delta 5,
The Slackers,
Ponytail,
Electric Prunes,
10cc,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.