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 Belarus and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kerrie Biddell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
KRS-One,
Half Japanese,
Wolf Eyes,
Rakim,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Human League,
F. McDonald,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
the Germs,
Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
Thompson Twins,
The Durutti Column,
Au Pairs,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
Angry Samoans,
Nils Olav,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
The Gun Club,
The Move,
The Detroit Cobras,
Metal Thangz,
Surgeon,
The Associates,
Oblivians,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
Godley & Creme,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Sun Ra,
Popol Vuh,
Subhumans,
Black Moon,
the Human League,
U.S. Maple,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Newcleus,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.