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 Seychelles and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin 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 LL Cool J to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Fortunes,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick May,
Todd Rundgren,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Yellowson,
Whodini,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lyres,
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Crime,
A Certain Ratio,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David Bowie,
Alton Ellis,
OOIOO,
Davy DMX,
Q65,
Throbbing Gristle,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Barracudas,
Ornette Coleman,
Wolf Eyes,
The American Breed,
Danielle Patucci,
Khruangbin,
The Residents,
The Skatalites,
Tommy Roe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
The Litter,
Camouflage,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sex Pistols,
China Crisis,
Dennis Brown,
Magazine,
Nico,
Fad Gadget,
Jimmy McGriff,
Subhumans,
The Star Department,
The Dave Clark Five,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.