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 Japan and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Metal Thangz to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nils Olav,
Can,
Jawbox,
Newcleus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moss Icon,
Bauhaus,
Hoover,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
UT,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Max Romeo,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quantec,
Stiv Bators,
Steve Hackett,
The Fall,
Chrome,
Glambeats Corp.,
Young Marble Giants,
Lower 48,
Loose Ends,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Invisible,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Almond,
Funkadelic,
Pulsallama,
the Slits,
MDC,
Bob Dylan,
Alton Ellis,
Minny Pops,
The Beau Brummels,
The United States of America,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Style,
Josef K,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Howard Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Spandau Ballet,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Donald Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
The Last Poets,
Monks,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.