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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 grunge 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Los Fastidios,
Franke,
Piero Umiliani,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Japan,
Ronan,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Massinfluence,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Negative Approach,
Q and Not U,
the Human League,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Names,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Con Funk Shun,
Godley & Creme,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
The Leaves,
David Axelrod,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Tommy Roe,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Average White Band,
Talk Talk,
Lucky Dragons,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
Lungfish,
Boredoms,
The Young Rascals,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Evens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sex Pistols,
Blake Baxter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Inner City,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gories,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.