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 Seychelles and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the electroclash 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Camouflage,
The Blackbyrds,
Liliput,
John Cale,
H. Thieme,
The Blues Magoos,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Jacques Brel,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
June Days,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Suburban Knight,
Bang On A Can,
Dennis Brown,
The Kinks,
Bronski Beat,
Clear Light,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Green,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultravox,
Fad Gadget,
Pagans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moby Grape,
Mr. Review,
The Trojans,
Mantronix,
The Tremeloes,
Quando Quango,
Rites of Spring,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
A Certain Ratio,
Albert Ayler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Barrington Levy,
Wolf Eyes,
The Martian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
Quadrant,
Reuben Wilson,
Deakin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pole,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Holt,
Buzzcocks,
Aural Exciters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terry Callier,
Dorothy Ashby,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.