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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Black Moon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
AZ,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Rites of Spring,
The Doors,
Thompson Twins,
John Lydon,
Average White Band,
Rapeman,
The Cowsills,
Blossom Toes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Raincoats,
The Invisible,
Hot Snakes,
Nils Olav,
The New Christs,
X-102,
Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
MDC,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suburban Knight,
Al Stewart,
The Sonics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pussy Galore,
Alison Limerick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Grass Roots,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Black Sheep,
Grauzone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
ABBA,
John Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Spandau Ballet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Machine,
Animal Collective,
Sex Pistols,
OOIOO,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
Ludus,
Inner City,
The Remains,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.