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 Iceland and from Paris.
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 Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trumans Water to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Agent Orange,
June of 44,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moebius,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Pus,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Sonics,
Minor Threat,
Stetsasonic,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Toni Rubio,
James White and The Blacks,
Ten City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marmalade,
The New Christs,
Joey Negro,
The Buckinghams,
Yaz,
Bill Near,
John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Man Parrish,
China Crisis,
Dennis Brown,
Alison Limerick,
Pantytec,
ABC,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed,
the Germs,
L. Decosne,
Liliput,
Skriet,
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
Technova,
The Monochrome Set,
Heaven 17,
Suburban Knight,
The Toasters,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Christie,
Susan Cadogan,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
Jacques Brel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
Khruangbin,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.