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 Nepal and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Subhumans to the techno 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
AZ,
Howard Jones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nils Olav,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rosa Yemen,
Surgeon,
Livin' Joy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rapeman,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Supertramp,
the Fania All-Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Television,
Charles Mingus,
Los Fastidios,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anakelly,
Audionom,
The Blackbyrds,
the Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Jandek,
The Doors,
Urselle,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mark Hollis,
Alison Limerick,
Deadbeat,
Thompson Twins,
Toni Rubio,
Letta Mbulu,
Joy Division,
Mr. Review,
The Fire Engines,
Althea and Donna,
David Axelrod,
Anthony Braxton,
Monolake,
Make Up,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
The Barracudas,
Deakin,
Wings,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
The Star Department,
Chris & Cosey,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.