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 Kosovo and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rap 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Detroit Cobras,
Y Pants,
Trumans Water,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lyres,
Eve St. Jones,
Oneida,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gap Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Enemy,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Inner City,
Fear,
Stereo Dub,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Swell Maps,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mary Jane Girls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Niagra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Aloha Tigers,
Joey Negro,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cecil Taylor,
Desert Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Sonics,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Banda Bassotti,
Funky Four + One,
Danielle Patucci,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arcadia,
Juan Atkins,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.