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 Bhutan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Parry Music to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Buzzcocks,
Cameo,
Harry Pussy,
Marvin Gaye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sandy B,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Mission of Burma,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minutemen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arab on Radar,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
Public Image Ltd.,
Radiopuhelimet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pantytec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Japan,
The Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
The Mojo Men,
Crime,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Busters,
Urselle,
Todd Terry,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Sneak,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Excepter,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Half Japanese,
The Vogues,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
The Zeros,
Flipper,
Faust,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.