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 East Timor and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
KRS-One,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lakeside,
Blossom Toes,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Camberwell Now,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Rotary Connection,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Tres Demented,
Wally Richardson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jandek,
Thompson Twins,
Lightning Bolt,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
Neil Young,
Suicide,
Kurtis Blow,
Radiohead,
Eddi Front,
Can,
Deakin,
Hardrive,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dave Gahan,
Lower 48,
Marshall Jefferson,
Public Enemy,
In Retrospect,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Unrelated Segments,
Trumans Water,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sonics,
The Mojo Men,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Icehouse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scion,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.