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 Botswana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Symarip to the disco 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Con Funk Shun,
Motorama,
X-101,
Interpol,
Section 25,
Essential Logic,
Magma,
Sonic Youth,
Schoolly D,
The New Christs,
Zapp,
Faust,
PIL,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aural Exciters,
Judy Mowatt,
Malaria!,
Scan 7,
Stetsasonic,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Fela Kuti,
Negative Approach,
Leonard Cohen,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fluxion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Beau Brummels,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Absolute Body Control,
Hasil Adkins,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Bourne,
Morten Harket,
Nik Kershaw,
the Germs,
Bill Near,
Black Bananas,
Eve St. Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
The American Breed,
Lightning Bolt,
Desert Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Sugar Minott,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dead C,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.