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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Tim Buckley to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alphaville,
Jeff Mills,
Icehouse,
Dave Gahan,
Von Mondo,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Fraelich,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
John Holt,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
Morten Harket,
Bauhaus,
Alice Coltrane,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hardrive,
T. Rex,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Depeche Mode,
Lucky Dragons,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Anakelly,
The Human League,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mandrill,
Little Man,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eddi Front,
Stereo Dub,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Yazoo,
The Count Five,
L. Decosne,
The Residents,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suburban Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
ABC,
The Remains,
Reuben Wilson,
Crooked Eye,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
David Axelrod,
Rites of Spring,
Chris Corsano,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slick Rick,
The Names,
Surgeon,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.