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 Samoa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Stooges to the electroclash 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radiohead,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Hood,
Jerry's Kids,
Icehouse,
Black Bananas,
The Techniques,
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Sarah Menescal,
Bush Tetras,
China Crisis,
Minor Threat,
Accadde A,
Mr. Review,
Graham Central Station,
Alison Limerick,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pere Ubu,
the Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Tears for Fears,
K-Klass,
The Mummies,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
E-Dancer,
John Foxx,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
Pussy Galore,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quadrant,
Kool Moe Dee,
Loose Ends,
The Birthday Party,
Shoche,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
The Misunderstood,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
Flamin' Groovies,
Robert Görl,
Ituana,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Trumans Water,
The Gun Club,
Zapp,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.