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 Belize and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blake Baxter 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Q and Not U,
Moss Icon,
Urselle,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Bananas,
the Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
The Buckinghams,
The Last Poets,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Derrick May,
Lucky Dragons,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vainqueur,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jerry's Kids,
Faraquet,
Pere Ubu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eurythmics,
Erykah Badu,
Crooked Eye,
The Standells,
DNA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
The Music Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
The United States of America,
Davy DMX,
Maurizio,
Morten Harket,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Todd Terry,
The Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.