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 Kazakhstan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ 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 Depeche Mode to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Connie Case,
Bluetip,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
Delon & Dalcan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Thompson Twins,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
Nils Olav,
Pussy Galore,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sarah Menescal,
Masters at Work,
The Smoke,
E-Dancer,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
The Monks,
Bad Manners,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Starr,
Crash Course in Science,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Young Rascals,
The Cure,
Black Sheep,
Clear Light,
Main Source,
Magazine,
John Lydon,
Essential Logic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faraquet,
The Fortunes,
The Busters,
Schoolly D,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Index,
Lyres,
The Black Dice,
The Fall,
the Germs,
Amon Düül,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Heaven 17,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.