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 Gabon and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
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 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
The Doobie Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Interpol,
Don Cherry,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slackers,
T.S.O.L.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scrapy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Little Man,
Zapp,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric Copeland,
Au Pairs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
Banda Bassotti,
Television,
Shuggie Otis,
Kenny Larkin,
D'Angelo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Eric Dolphy,
Boredoms,
Icehouse,
Desert Stars,
Scion,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Letta Mbulu,
David McCallum,
Susan Cadogan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The United States of America,
the Slits,
Magma,
Terry Callier,
Wally Richardson,
Amon Düül,
Pole,
Bad Manners,
Dawn Penn,
Delon & Dalcan,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.