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 Comoros and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the electroclash 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
Make Up,
Das Ding,
Erasure,
Moby Grape,
the Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Maleditus Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Silicon Teens,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Youth Brigade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Desert Stars,
EPMD,
Dead Boys,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
Pantytec,
Magazine,
Cameo,
Intrusion,
Rapeman,
The Seeds,
Con Funk Shun,
Donald Byrd,
Accadde A,
Soul II Soul,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi,
Todd Rundgren,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tommy Roe,
Basic Channel,
Alison Limerick,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pagans,
The Monks,
The Trojans,
Brothers Johnson,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cramps,
Roxy Music,
Monolake,
Subhumans,
Aural Exciters,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.