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 Slovenia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Sheep to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
MDC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Hoover,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lungfish,
The Cowsills,
F. McDonald,
The New Christs,
Adolescents,
X-102,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Marshall Jefferson,
Davy DMX,
Black Sheep,
Jeff Lynne,
Desert Stars,
The Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
John Foxx,
Aswad,
Jeff Mills,
Pussy Galore,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry's Kids,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Trojans,
Yaz,
Fugazi,
The Monochrome Set,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hot Snakes,
Negative Approach,
Jawbox,
Rites of Spring,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters,
Reagan Youth,
Roxy Music,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bauhaus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.