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 Angola and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Martian to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
La Düsseldorf,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Selecter,
Skriet,
Negative Approach,
Bauhaus,
Schoolly D,
T. Rex,
H. Thieme,
Icehouse,
The Barracudas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Inner City,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lucky Dragons,
Blancmange,
Graham Central Station,
Amon Düül,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Angels of Light,
Deadbeat,
Derrick May,
The Black Dice,
Tom Boy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suicide,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gap Band,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Christie,
Scratch Acid,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Altered Images,
Young Marble Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Bluetip,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Max Romeo,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Scion,
Chris Corsano,
Royal Trux,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.