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 Uganda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Beijing.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scrapy 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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
The Victims,
Hasil Adkins,
Surgeon,
Sällskapet,
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
The Kinks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Standells,
Silicon Teens,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David Axelrod,
Throbbing Gristle,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantytec,
Cameo,
The Wake,
The Real Kids,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
Massinfluence,
Sixth Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Wells,
Lindisfarne,
Unrelated Segments,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Move,
F. McDonald,
Wally Richardson,
Unwound,
Qualms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joyce Sims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacob Miller,
Glenn Branca,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maleditus Sound,
the Normal,
Blancmange,
Liliput,
China Crisis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
Mr. Review,
Funky Four + One,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.