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 Sudan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sarah Menescal to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Litter,
DJ Style,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones,
Bootsy Collins,
John Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Arthur Verocai,
The Names,
Motorama,
Sonic Youth,
Dawn Penn,
Crispy Ambulance,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Sheep,
Maleditus Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav,
Dennis Brown,
Tommy Roe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DJ Sneak,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Schoolly D,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
UT,
Camberwell Now,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spandau Ballet,
Don Cherry,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Television,
The New Christs,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Joy Division,
Section 25,
Stetsasonic,
Scion,
Ken Boothe,
Warren Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
Vladislav Delay,
Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Blackbyrds,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.