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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
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 Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the crunk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maurizio,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Christie,
Eurythmics,
The Red Krayola,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
The J.B.'s,
The Birthday Party,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
Whodini,
Franke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gregory Isaacs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Görl,
Half Japanese,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Vladislav Delay,
Ronan,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy Collins,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
MC5,
the Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
John Lydon,
Lucky Dragons,
B.T. Express,
Tim Buckley,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Howard Jones,
UT,
Gong,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
the Human League,
Slave,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Starr,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
Spoonie Gee,
Sam Rivers,
The Walker Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
Jawbox,
Livin' Joy,
Kas Product,
Can,
Stetsasonic,
Khruangbin,
Ultravox,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.