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 Russia and from Halifax.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Barry Ungar to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barry Ungar,
Ten City,
Joyce Sims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Supertramp,
The Sound,
Wire,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Quadrant,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
Khruangbin,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABBA,
Black Moon,
The Blues Magoos,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Young Rascals,
Circle Jerks,
The Smiths,
Lindisfarne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Residents,
Jacob Miller,
The Martian,
The Leaves,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wasted Youth,
Toni Rubio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Siglo XX,
Tom Boy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Excepter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Letta Mbulu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fear,
David McCallum,
The Fuzztones,
Prince Buster,
Warsaw,
Massinfluence,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Main Source,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DJ Style,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare,
Mo-Dettes,
Jandek,
The Raincoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.