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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Intrusion to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
The Walker Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Ultimate Spinach,
The New Christs,
Dave Gahan,
Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Todd Rundgren,
DJ Style,
Y Pants,
Agent Orange,
Hot Snakes,
The Victims,
The Black Dice,
Subhumans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Siglo XX,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
Stereo Dub,
Minny Pops,
Newcleus,
Saccharine Trust,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Rotary Connection,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brand Nubian,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thee Headcoats,
Jandek,
Nick Fraelich,
Danielle Patucci,
Joe Smooth,
Porter Ricks,
The Seeds,
Slave,
Blancmange,
Wolf Eyes,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Funky Four + One,
Gang of Four,
Young Marble Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.