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 Estonia and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mo-Dettes to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
48th St. Collective,
Section 25,
The Selecter,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fuzztones,
Soulsonic Force,
Alton Ellis,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kenny Larkin,
DNA,
Bill Near,
Steve Hackett,
Mo-Dettes,
Eric Copeland,
The Motions,
Can,
the Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
Banda Bassotti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-101,
Spoonie Gee,
KRS-One,
the Association,
The Velvet Underground,
Pantytec,
Infiniti,
Ten City,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
JFA,
The Golliwogs,
Joy Division,
Albert Ayler,
Hasil Adkins,
The Misunderstood,
Smog,
Radiohead,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
Crooked Eye,
Blake Baxter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Moss Icon,
Index,
David Axelrod,
World's Most,
Agent Orange,
Black Pus,
Lightning Bolt,
The Young Rascals,
Derrick May,
Cybotron,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.