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 Albania and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rekid 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Maleditus Sound,
Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crime,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Stooges,
Rekid,
Boredoms,
Susan Cadogan,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Almond,
Hashim,
Saccharine Trust,
Pantytec,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
The New Christs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sparks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Deadbeat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Last Poets,
Mantronix,
Idris Muhammad,
Q65,
La Düsseldorf,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tres Demented,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erasure,
The Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Mars,
Tim Buckley,
Danielle Patucci,
Excepter,
Alphaville,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smiths,
The Dead C,
Glenn Branca,
Wolf Eyes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Con Funk Shun,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marvin Gaye,
Easy Going,
Fluxion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Machine,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.