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 Togo and from Halifax.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Avey Tare 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Surgeon,
Wasted Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Model 500,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Wolf Eyes,
Dennis Brown,
FM Einheit,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
The Victims,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Easy Going,
Crime,
Basic Channel,
the Slits,
R.M.O.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Young Marble Giants,
New Order,
Nico,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
Howard Jones,
The Fall,
Nick Fraelich,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Pylon,
Warsaw,
Shoche,
Sandy B,
Sonic Youth,
John Cale,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Laurel Aitken,
Outsiders,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
B.T. Express,
H. Thieme,
Second Layer,
Fela Kuti,
The Dead C,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.