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 Maldives and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin 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 Traffic Nightmare to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
cv313,
The Slackers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mad Mike,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Count Five,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
Crooked Eye,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
Alton Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
H. Thieme,
Brick,
Q65,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sugar Minott,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
The Litter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Machine,
The Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Radiohead,
Silicon Teens,
Bootsy Collins,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Almond,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
X-102,
Fugazi,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Moon,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
Gong,
Ituana,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
the Germs,
The Misunderstood,
Arcadia,
Vainqueur,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.