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 Switzerland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B 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?
Boz Scaggs,
The Five Americans,
a-ha,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lower 48,
X-Ray Spex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deakin,
Sparks,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
Ludus,
The Human League,
Archie Shepp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shoche,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camouflage,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics,
The Misunderstood,
Pere Ubu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mission of Burma,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aural Exciters,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
Quantec,
Marc Almond,
The Move,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Animal Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
The Leaves,
Boredoms,
Angry Samoans,
Jacques Brel,
Smog,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.