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 Netherlands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the crunk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suburban Knight,
Royal Trux,
Warsaw,
the Normal,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joyce Sims,
Ossler,
Cluster,
Nils Olav,
Symarip,
The Neon Judgement,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
Erykah Badu,
Derrick Morgan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masters at Work,
The Smoke,
The Slits,
Goldenarms,
The Buckinghams,
Heaven 17,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust,
Morten Harket,
Josef K,
Tommy Roe,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Girls At Our Best!,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Fluxion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Essential Logic,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
The Barracudas,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Whodini,
Nirvana,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Mills,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
Unwound,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.