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 Netherlands and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 The Gladiators to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Intrusion,
Sandy B,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hot Snakes,
Minnie Riperton,
Wolf Eyes,
Fluxion,
The Gun Club,
Dead Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
48th St. Collective,
Sam Rivers,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
Moss Icon,
Warsaw,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
Brick,
Funky Four + One,
the Normal,
The Selecter,
Alison Limerick,
Joyce Sims,
The New Christs,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Monks,
Panda Bear,
Susan Cadogan,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Wings,
cv313,
Deepchord,
John Holt,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
the Swans,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Unrelated Segments,
Goldenarms,
Todd Terry,
The Slits,
Godley & Creme,
Ken Boothe,
Faraquet,
Deadbeat,
Man Parrish,
Audionom,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pere Ubu,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Erasure,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.