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 Madagascar and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-101,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Raincoats,
The Tremeloes,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
Byron Stingily,
One Last Wish,
Rekid,
Procol Harum,
LL Cool J,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Flag,
Index,
Dawn Penn,
Stereo Dub,
Warren Ellis,
Supertramp,
Graham Central Station,
Quando Quango,
The Music Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slits,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Au Pairs,
Maurizio,
Q65,
Angry Samoans,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
Guru Guru,
Vladislav Delay,
Urselle,
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slave,
Toni Rubio,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agent Orange,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
U.S. Maple,
The Residents,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.