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 South Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funky Four + One to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
The Move,
The Mojo Men,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
The Divine Comedy,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fugs,
The Saints,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Tres Demented,
Kerri Chandler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roxette,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed,
Alison Limerick,
New Order,
Barrington Levy,
Make Up,
Pulsallama,
The Cramps,
ABBA,
Symarip,
June of 44,
The Raincoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
One Last Wish,
Spoonie Gee,
Porter Ricks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Underground Resistance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sex Pistols,
Mo-Dettes,
Kas Product,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Lynne,
Talk Talk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kayak,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Skarface,
Cymande,
Bauhaus,
Brass Construction,
Alice Coltrane,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.