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 Mauritania 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 ABBA to the dance 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
PIL,
Main Source,
the Swans,
T. Rex,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pere Ubu,
Ralphi Rosario,
FM Einheit,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Tremeloes,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Intrusion,
Robert Hood,
Joe Smooth,
Whodini,
Negative Approach,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
Scion,
Eddi Front,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jawbox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Young Marble Giants,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Vainqueur,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pagans,
Kas Product,
Harry Pussy,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
Liliput,
The Grass Roots,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Slick Rick,
Bronski Beat,
Grandmaster Flash,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun City Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
the Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Johnny Clarke,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.