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 Dominica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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's Slasher Flicks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ohio Players,
John Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Swell Maps,
EPMD,
Morten Harket,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minnie Riperton,
Duran Duran,
Joe Finger,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
Jeff Mills,
Desert Stars,
Nirvana,
The Neon Judgement,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Make Up,
Nils Olav,
Maurizio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
Soul Sonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Sheep,
Wasted Youth,
Camberwell Now,
Althea and Donna,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soulsonic Force,
Pantytec,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonic Youth,
Marc Almond,
Chrome,
Guru Guru,
Wire,
The Last Poets,
Dennis Brown,
Niagra,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Brass Construction,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.