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 Czech Republic and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Skaos to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
James White and The Blacks,
In Retrospect,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Invisible,
Ornette Coleman,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
Subhumans,
The Moody Blues,
Stetsasonic,
Visage,
Von Mondo,
Lindisfarne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faraquet,
Wally Richardson,
Television Personalities,
Nick Fraelich,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Au Pairs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Bourne,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Todd Rundgren,
OOIOO,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
The Slackers,
Bronski Beat,
The Techniques,
The Happenings,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fugs,
the Human League,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Yazoo,
Sound Behaviour,
The Kinks,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Bananas,
Basic Channel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Misunderstood,
David McCallum,
X-Ray Spex,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.