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 Uganda and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
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 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 Traffic Nightmare to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
Erasure,
Soulsonic Force,
Sparks,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drive Like Jehu,
Animal Collective,
Connie Case,
The Standells,
The Searchers,
Nico,
Wasted Youth,
Alton Ellis,
Ornette Coleman,
Symarip,
The Wake,
Boogie Down Productions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erykah Badu,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
Popol Vuh,
Sister Nancy,
Skaos,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T. Rex,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Silicon Teens,
Chrome,
Excepter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terry Callier,
UT,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
10cc,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Joensuu 1685,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
Peter & Gordon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alphaville,
Bootsy Collins,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.