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 Uzbekistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Symarip to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dead Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Residents,
Qualms,
Intrusion,
Grey Daturas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Dolphy,
Matthew Halsall,
Theoretical Girls,
Tres Demented,
Electric Prunes,
The Wake,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
Amazonics,
Slave,
8 Eyed Spy,
Connie Case,
Average White Band,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Red Krayola,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yazoo,
a-ha,
Wings,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
Ultra Naté,
Howard Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
One Last Wish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Trojans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vladislav Delay,
Funkadelic,
Buzzcocks,
Cybotron,
Icehouse,
Althea and Donna,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
Tom Boy,
Wire,
Godley & Creme,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.