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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aural Exciters to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust,
The Divine Comedy,
Kayak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonic Youth,
The Pretty Things,
Talk Talk,
Rapeman,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Five Americans,
Tommy Roe,
China Crisis,
Soul Sonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Pole,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Clarke,
Radiohead,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
Faust,
The Misunderstood,
Chrome,
The Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Toni Rubio,
Fat Boys,
Scion,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
Alton Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Average White Band,
The Tremeloes,
David McCallum,
Black Moon,
The Techniques,
Barrington Levy,
Shoche,
Soft Cell,
The Searchers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.