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 Congo and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock 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?
Von Mondo,
Icehouse,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aloha Tigers,
Suburban Knight,
The Dead C,
Black Moon,
The Red Krayola,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Alarm Clocks,
Juan Atkins,
Section 25,
Can,
This Heat,
Rites of Spring,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Starr,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rosa Yemen,
Howard Jones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Angels of Light,
Archie Shepp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Music Machine,
The Kinks,
Roxy Music,
Tommy Roe,
Sixth Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Nils Olav,
Anakelly,
Accadde A,
Joe Finger,
Lungfish,
The Invisible,
L. Decosne,
Boredoms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
H. Thieme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Albert Ayler,
Faust,
DJ Style,
Model 500,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ice-T,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.