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 Serbia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the electroclash 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
Slick Rick,
Black Pus,
Jawbox,
Piero Umiliani,
Roxy Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Average White Band,
Derrick Morgan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Saints,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Stooges,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
Qualms,
the Bar-Kays,
Tubeway Army,
The Modern Lovers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fela Kuti,
Anthony Braxton,
Suburban Knight,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Searchers,
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
a-ha,
Judy Mowatt,
Faust,
Dual Sessions,
Pierre Henry,
Blossom Toes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eurythmics,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Goldenarms,
June of 44,
Sun Ra,
The Fuzztones,
DNA,
Suicide,
Pole,
Soul Sonic Force,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
Vainqueur,
Ponytail,
Soulsonic Force,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alison Limerick,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.