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 Switzerland and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Niagra to the grime 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cal Tjader,
Make Up,
Susan Cadogan,
Scion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mr. Review,
June of 44,
The Slits,
Mandrill,
Pussy Galore,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Golliwogs,
The Walker Brothers,
K-Klass,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joy Division,
Sex Pistols,
Toni Rubio,
Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Oneida,
David Bowie,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
MC5,
the Germs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ituana,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
The Detroit Cobras,
a-ha,
Malaria!,
Soft Cell,
The Young Rascals,
Terry Callier,
Peter & Gordon,
Flash Fearless,
Aswad,
Barclay James Harvest,
Radiohead,
Japan,
Steve Hackett,
Johnny Osbourne,
Panda Bear,
Dawn Penn,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Count Five,
Drexciya,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Near,
Second Layer,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.