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 Gabon and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Inner City to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Wally Richardson,
Eli Mardock,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Junior Murvin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Essential Logic,
Howard Jones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Depeche Mode,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Main Source,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
Bush Tetras,
Brand Nubian,
The Five Americans,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
F. McDonald,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Rosa Yemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wasted Youth,
Q and Not U,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slackers,
World's Most,
The Saints,
Flipper,
Au Pairs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick Morgan,
D'Angelo,
Dawn Penn,
Brass Construction,
Dennis Brown,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
Khruangbin,
Camberwell Now,
Ituana,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ossler,
Byron Stingily,
UT,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.