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 Belgium and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Underground Resistance to the grime 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
D'Angelo,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
Icehouse,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Gang Dance,
UT,
Alton Ellis,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Five Americans,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
ABC,
Interpol,
Supertramp,
Easy Going,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Mills,
Cecil Taylor,
Al Stewart,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Deadbeat,
Ultravox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Matthew Bourne,
Brand Nubian,
Nik Kershaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
Slave,
Kayak,
Aural Exciters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amazonics,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Essential Logic,
The Names,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sight & Sound,
John Cale,
In Retrospect,
The Blues Magoos,
The Birthday Party,
Eve St. Jones,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Alison Limerick,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.