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 Guinea-Bissau and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jacob Miller to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
Crispy Ambulance,
Urselle,
Agitation Free,
Siglo XX,
Magma,
The Flesh Eaters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Clear Light,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cramps,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
ABBA,
Rapeman,
Funkadelic,
Janne Schatter,
Make Up,
Alice Coltrane,
Kaleidoscope,
Royal Trux,
Crooked Eye,
Nils Olav,
Josef K,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Niagra,
Mark Hollis,
Cameo,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
the Association,
the Sonics,
A Certain Ratio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Second Layer,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Jeff Lynne,
Brick,
Vainqueur,
Los Fastidios,
The Fuzztones,
Television Personalities,
The Golliwogs,
Sun Ra,
The Happenings,
The Busters,
X-101,
Public Image Ltd.,
Youth Brigade,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.