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 Philippines and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
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 guitar 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 L. Decosne to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Arthur Verocai,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Visage,
Siglo XX,
Roxette,
Donny Hathaway,
Los Fastidios,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Masters at Work,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül,
This Heat,
The Tremeloes,
Rekid,
Minutemen,
Guru Guru,
The Names,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Livin' Joy,
Althea and Donna,
Loose Ends,
Sällskapet,
Suburban Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blake Baxter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fat Boys,
Index,
Morten Harket,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
The Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Davy DMX,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr,
EPMD,
Au Pairs,
Suicide,
Dorothy Ashby,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.