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 Grenada and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
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 spring reverb 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the rap 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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
Drexciya,
Brothers Johnson,
Accadde A,
Au Pairs,
Skriet,
The Cure,
E-Dancer,
Depeche Mode,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minny Pops,
Aloha Tigers,
Nico,
John Foxx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
China Crisis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy Collins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Severed Heads,
Arthur Verocai,
Warren Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Zapp,
The Offenders,
Agent Orange,
Radiohead,
Rotary Connection,
Niagra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Essential Logic,
The Moody Blues,
Groovy Waters,
Barbara Tucker,
The Real Kids,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
The Moleskins,
The Cowsills,
Easy Going,
Wally Richardson,
The Blackbyrds,
Steve Hackett,
U.S. Maple,
Rhythm & Sound,
Josef K,
Faraquet,
Los Fastidios,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Qualms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.