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 Guatemala and from Milan.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Minny Pops to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
Lower 48,
Throbbing Gristle,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Litter,
Khruangbin,
The Moleskins,
Mission of Burma,
Joey Negro,
the Germs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pulsallama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Susan Cadogan,
Pierre Henry,
Alphaville,
The Gap Band,
John Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flash Fearless,
Icehouse,
Black Moon,
Pylon,
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
Crispy Ambulance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter and Kerry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anakelly,
Wasted Youth,
Faust,
Jandek,
Michelle Simonal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sonic Youth,
Outsiders,
Lyres,
Fad Gadget,
The Gun Club,
Siglo XX,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Neil Young,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiohead,
Japan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.