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 Guatemala and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Young Marble Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Qualms,
Steve Hackett,
The Birthday Party,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
Underground Resistance,
Make Up,
CMW,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
Masters at Work,
Khruangbin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Wake,
Scientists,
Gregory Isaacs,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Wally Richardson,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Little Man,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
A Certain Ratio,
Lightning Bolt,
Zero Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Nas,
Smog,
the Association,
Derrick Morgan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
AZ,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Al Stewart,
Peter and Kerry,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young,
The Moody Blues,
The Raincoats,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.