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 Cambodia and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Joensuu 1685 to the funk 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Prince Buster,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
Carl Craig,
Henry Cow,
David McCallum,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
The Dirtbombs,
Maleditus Sound,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eurythmics,
One Last Wish,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Alarm Clocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arab on Radar,
Desert Stars,
Altered Images,
Rites of Spring,
Ultravox,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hardrive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jawbox,
L. Decosne,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Monks,
The Black Dice,
Ohio Players,
Harmonia,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Don Cherry,
Lightning Bolt,
Parry Music,
Matthew Halsall,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
Cymande,
Quantec,
Tom Boy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sugar Minott,
Dual Sessions,
Amon Düül,
Oneida,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chris Corsano,
The Fall,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.