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 Eritrea 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Smog to the rock 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Pagans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gories,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Young Marble Giants,
Average White Band,
Television,
Khruangbin,
Eric Copeland,
Yellowson,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Todd Terry,
The Durutti Column,
X-102,
EPMD,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
OOIOO,
Hardrive,
LL Cool J,
Unrelated Segments,
The Index,
Audionom,
D'Angelo,
Graham Central Station,
Nick Fraelich,
Bluetip,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cramps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
The Last Poets,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
The Sonics,
Dark Day,
Q and Not U,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
Skarface,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Pole,
Television Personalities,
Chrome,
Moebius,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.