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 Nauru and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Piero Umiliani to the punk 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Danielle Patucci,
Intrusion,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Blues Magoos,
Y Pants,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
The Monks,
ABBA,
James White and The Blacks,
Todd Rundgren,
The Invisible,
Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Arthur Verocai,
Crooked Eye,
Ten City,
The Slackers,
Kas Product,
Byron Stingily,
The Golliwogs,
Funkadelic,
Warren Ellis,
Skaos,
Fad Gadget,
KRS-One,
Los Fastidios,
Popol Vuh,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gap Band,
Duran Duran,
The Human League,
Monks,
Fugazi,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agitation Free,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Foxx,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Toasters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
a-ha,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Womack,
The Litter,
Altered Images,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.