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 Turkmenistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Unwound to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Metal Thangz,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Von Mondo,
Das Ding,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dave Gahan,
Scion,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Guru Guru,
Junior Murvin,
In Retrospect,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon,
Skriet,
Mission of Burma,
Pole,
Niagra,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Flash Fearless,
Connie Case,
The Moody Blues,
Ossler,
Scott Walker,
Supertramp,
June Days,
John Lydon,
Crooked Eye,
The Smoke,
Symarip,
New Order,
U.S. Maple,
The Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
Tim Buckley,
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
The Divine Comedy,
The New Christs,
The Index,
The Gap Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sällskapet,
Rapeman,
Swans,
Sight & Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.