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 Morocco and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Hood,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
Talk Talk,
The Grass Roots,
Skriet,
Spoonie Gee,
The Trojans,
Neil Young,
The Birthday Party,
Lungfish,
Ponytail,
Maleditus Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Jacob Miller,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül II,
The Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Circle Jerks,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Ice-T,
Deepchord,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
CMW,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Saccharine Trust,
Crooked Eye,
Flipper,
The Gun Club,
MDC,
B.T. Express,
David McCallum,
Joey Negro,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
The Index,
Jimmy McGriff,
Darondo,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
Lucky Dragons,
Anakelly,
The Doors,
The Fuzztones,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.