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 Honduras and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Derrick Morgan,
Television,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joensuu 1685,
Harmonia,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Monks,
Mr. Review,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jawbox,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Blake Baxter,
Peter and Kerry,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
Neu!,
Basic Channel,
Camberwell Now,
Grauzone,
the Association,
The Star Department,
Spoonie Gee,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Eric B and Rakim,
Icehouse,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soft Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Carl Craig,
Thee Headcoats,
Lee Hazlewood,
Isaac Hayes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Anthony Braxton,
The Black Dice,
Tom Boy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Freddie Wadling,
Aural Exciters,
Metal Thangz,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Trumans Water,
Agent Orange,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nirvana,
Dennis Brown,
Sight & Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.