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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Amazonics,
D'Angelo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Spandau Ballet,
The Star Department,
Colin Newman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jacob Miller,
Guru Guru,
Fear,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Goldenarms,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
The Real Kids,
The Durutti Column,
Joey Negro,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Flag,
Bobby Womack,
ABBA,
The Last Poets,
Eurythmics,
Donald Byrd,
Grauzone,
Bizarre Inc.,
Godley & Creme,
The Cramps,
Gang Starr,
Black Moon,
Nico,
Essential Logic,
Cheater Slicks,
Eddi Front,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fugazi,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Mary Jane Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Arcadia,
The Cure,
Scratch Acid,
Zero Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Y Pants,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Victims,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantytec,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.