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 Iran and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Womack to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Clear Light,
Stereo Dub,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Erykah Badu,
Minutemen,
Gang Starr,
The Pretty Things,
Graham Central Station,
Von Mondo,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cecil Taylor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funky Four + One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fat Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
DNA,
Smog,
Soulsonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Rakim,
Bill Near,
Kayak,
Wally Richardson,
The Young Rascals,
the Normal,
Drive Like Jehu,
This Heat,
Los Fastidios,
Jacques Brel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
John Lydon,
K-Klass,
The Index,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
The Searchers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
Anakelly,
Massinfluence,
Lyres,
Can,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Amon Düül,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.