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 Antigua and from New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
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 güiro 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the crunk 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The Names,
The Martian,
Theoretical Girls,
Soul II Soul,
Vladislav Delay,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
The Remains,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marmalade,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Essential Logic,
Joe Smooth,
Ice-T,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hardrive,
Joyce Sims,
Aswad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Royal Trux,
Scion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Slits,
The Count Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Robert Görl,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
La Düsseldorf,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Dirtbombs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cal Tjader,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Fugazi,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
EPMD,
Smog,
Khruangbin,
Sun City Girls,
Infiniti,
Faust,
Sparks,
Bob Dylan,
Sugar Minott,
Ponytail,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.