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 Bhutan and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Public Image Ltd. 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gichy Dan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Foxx,
Albert Ayler,
Sarah Menescal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The New Christs,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispy Ambulance,
Electric Prunes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Zapp,
Rosa Yemen,
Nico,
Newcleus,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Bronski Beat,
The Velvet Underground,
Fat Boys,
L. Decosne,
Soul II Soul,
Icehouse,
The Standells,
Bizarre Inc.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
Iggy Pop,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Main Source,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
The Smoke,
the Swans,
Drexciya,
Subhumans,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yaz,
The Black Dice,
Tim Buckley,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
Index,
Kaleidoscope,
Circle Jerks,
CMW,
the Human League,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fear,
Cameo,
The Monochrome Set,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Surgeon,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.