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 Eritrea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Susan Cadogan,
Fad Gadget,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reuben Wilson,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Joensuu 1685,
Blossom Toes,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Tommy Roe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erykah Badu,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gun Club,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
Wire,
The Fortunes,
Prince Buster,
Quantec,
Suicide,
Derrick May,
Colin Newman,
Technova,
The Fall,
Harmonia,
Zapp,
Suburban Knight,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cameo,
Dead Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Franke,
Marvin Gaye,
Pylon,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Sugar Minott,
The Modern Lovers,
Aural Exciters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.