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 Mexico and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Terry Callier to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fuzztones,
The Doors,
Newcleus,
Matthew Bourne,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Grey Daturas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Altered Images,
Danielle Patucci,
Aural Exciters,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
Albert Ayler,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stockholm Monsters,
Agitation Free,
the Human League,
The Motions,
The Martian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mandrill,
Neil Young,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Nas,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Delon & Dalcan,
Circle Jerks,
Funkadelic,
Don Cherry,
Wolf Eyes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thee Headcoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Technova,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Rekid,
Donald Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Bronski Beat,
Unwound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Make Up,
Judy Mowatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dawn Penn,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.