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 Croatia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin 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 Sixth Finger to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gabor Szabo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funky Four + One,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
The Names,
David Bowie,
The Busters,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nik Kershaw,
Lyres,
Sparks,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
ABBA,
John Foxx,
The Mojo Men,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed,
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
kango's stein massive,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eli Mardock,
The Stooges,
Junior Murvin,
Althea and Donna,
F. McDonald,
Vainqueur,
Eden Ahbez,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Knickerbockers,
Shoche,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Popol Vuh,
The Raincoats,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Masters at Work,
Maurizio,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.