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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ornette Coleman to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
the Soft Cell,
Monks,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
CMW,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sonic Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultra Naté,
Parry Music,
Wolf Eyes,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brass Construction,
Das Ding,
Lungfish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Suicide,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
PIL,
Maurizio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
The Martian,
The Birthday Party,
Interpol,
Television Personalities,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Skarface,
Robert Wyatt,
The Knickerbockers,
John Cale,
Nirvana,
Janne Schatter,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
The Mojo Men,
The Slackers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Amon Düül,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Lynne,
X-101,
Mad Mike,
AZ,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Buckinghams,
Throbbing Gristle,
Von Mondo,
Gang of Four,
Angry Samoans,
Y Pants,
Magma,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Connie Case,
Grauzone,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.