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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Au Pairs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Sugar Minott,
In Retrospect,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Swell Maps,
Dennis Brown,
Sonic Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hot Snakes,
The Birthday Party,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
Unrelated Segments,
Guru Guru,
Aswad,
Oneida,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
The Monks,
Loose Ends,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
The Angels of Light,
Chrome,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
John Holt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rekid,
The Real Kids,
The Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vladislav Delay,
The Searchers,
Suburban Knight,
the Fania All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Jawbox,
Public Image Ltd.,
Alton Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.