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 Poland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Severed Heads 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mantronix,
Patti Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Sällskapet,
Piero Umiliani,
The Toasters,
Lakeside,
DJ Style,
Lalann,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Eurythmics,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
48th St. Collective,
Pantaleimon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Interpol,
Al Stewart,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
The Wake,
Faust,
Massinfluence,
Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Tears for Fears,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
The Seeds,
Joe Smooth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gun Club,
Yaz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Can,
Newcleus,
Toni Rubio,
The Count Five,
Soft Machine,
The Buckinghams,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Average White Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Spandau Ballet,
Fat Boys,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.