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 Poland and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 The Pop Group to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Scion,
New York Dolls,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Human League,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Quantec,
John Holt,
Average White Band,
Charles Mingus,
The Red Krayola,
Gong,
Mantronix,
Don Cherry,
Ronan,
Grey Daturas,
Henry Cow,
Lucky Dragons,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Oblivians,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Banda Bassotti,
The Doobie Brothers,
Livin' Joy,
Reagan Youth,
X-101,
Duran Duran,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Index,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Anakelly,
Deakin,
Joy Division,
Monks,
Babytalk,
Amazonics,
Subhumans,
Fat Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
48th St. Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Sonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Popol Vuh,
Bronski Beat,
Maleditus Sound,
Accadde A,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.