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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet 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 Last Poets,
F. McDonald,
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Metal Thangz,
Talk Talk,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ronnie Foster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Lynne,
Boz Scaggs,
Schoolly D,
Leonard Cohen,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Slick Rick,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
EPMD,
Kayak,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Make Up,
Sight & Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Golliwogs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
Lalann,
Jandek,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Skarface,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Tremeloes,
Q65,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
The Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
The Doors,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Buckinghams,
Newcleus,
Excepter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.