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 Germany and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 Neu! to the rap 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lungfish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bootsy Collins,
Josef K,
The Fortunes,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fugs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heaven 17,
B.T. Express,
JFA,
Mo-Dettes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
The Skatalites,
Alison Limerick,
Chrome,
Eric Copeland,
Bang On A Can,
Max Romeo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
Tim Buckley,
The United States of America,
Yusef Lateef,
Moss Icon,
Pussy Galore,
Radiohead,
Boogie Down Productions,
D'Angelo,
Second Layer,
Warren Ellis,
Joey Negro,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Black Dice,
Wire,
The Blackbyrds,
The Red Krayola,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Essential Logic,
Intrusion,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Teasers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nas,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.