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 Botswana and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispy Ambulance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Juan Atkins,
Scion,
Electric Prunes,
Warsaw,
John Cale,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mummies,
Scratch Acid,
Graham Central Station,
Barrington Levy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Duran Duran,
Godley & Creme,
Davy DMX,
the Fania All-Stars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cluster,
Amon Düül II,
Fatback Band,
Los Fastidios,
Jerry's Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
Black Sheep,
Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radio Birdman,
The Motions,
Laurel Aitken,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
The Fuzztones,
Deepchord,
Albert Ayler,
Kayak,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Birthday Party,
The Monks,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mars,
Trumans Water,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masters at Work,
World's Most,
Amazonics,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.