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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Neon Judgement,
The Litter,
The Names,
The Raincoats,
Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Das Ding,
JFA,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
Amazonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Bananas,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Second Layer,
Pharoah Sanders,
Make Up,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Ludus,
Ronan,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Gabor Szabo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alice Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
10cc,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sun Ra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thompson Twins,
The Tremeloes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Technova,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxy Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fugazi,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Y Pants,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacques Brel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy,
Roger Hodgson,
Avey Tare,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.