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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies 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 grunge 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
H. Thieme,
The Real Kids,
The Skatalites,
Quadrant,
Basic Channel,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
Godley & Creme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barrington Levy,
Toni Rubio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
The Busters,
Gang Green,
Cameo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
John Foxx,
Yellowson,
Essential Logic,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joy Division,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Golliwogs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
Suicide,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
La Düsseldorf,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Andrew Hill,
Lakeside,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
Stereo Dub,
Sugar Minott,
Bluetip,
Soulsonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Franke,
Bad Manners,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scrapy,
Eurythmics,
Gong,
Maurizio,
Crispy Ambulance,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.