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 Thailand and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 These Immortal Souls to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Wake,
kango's stein massive,
Nick Fraelich,
Interpol,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Pus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cluster,
The Associates,
Byron Stingily,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mr. Review,
Nas,
cv313,
Underground Resistance,
The Fuzztones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra,
Grey Daturas,
Rod Modell,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
Dead Boys,
K-Klass,
Easy Going,
Ituana,
Infiniti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Five Americans,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
Cecil Taylor,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spandau Ballet,
Blake Baxter,
Chrome,
E-Dancer,
Yaz,
Alton Ellis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Morten Harket,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Barrington Levy,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.