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 France and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Harmonia,
Ohio Players,
Fad Gadget,
The Real Kids,
The Residents,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Khruangbin,
Intrusion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Remains,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Morten Harket,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
L. Decosne,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Aloha Tigers,
Brass Construction,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Lynne,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tears for Fears,
Mandrill,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
Wasted Youth,
The Durutti Column,
The Slackers,
Cybotron,
Quantec,
KRS-One,
Smog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thee Headcoats,
Jimmy McGriff,
Freddie Wadling,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
R.M.O.,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.