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 Denmark and from New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Scion to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tomorrow,
Gichy Dan,
Ituana,
Danielle Patucci,
Wire,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
Tom Boy,
Donny Hathaway,
Moebius,
New Age Steppers,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Green,
cv313,
Boredoms,
Faust,
Kenny Larkin,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Albert Ayler,
Alice Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Maleditus Sound,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
ABC,
John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Josef K,
World's Most,
The Remains,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
Arthur Verocai,
Mission of Burma,
Organ,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Saccharine Trust,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Machine,
Freddie Wadling,
Television Personalities,
Nico,
Fela Kuti,
Ludus,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sound,
K-Klass,
The Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
The Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.