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 Mali and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ponytail to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Scott Walker,
Easy Going,
Soul Sonic Force,
Second Layer,
Icehouse,
Pylon,
Connie Case,
Royal Trux,
CMW,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Max Romeo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
Cal Tjader,
Masters at Work,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Malaria!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pantytec,
AZ,
Fela Kuti,
The Associates,
Fad Gadget,
Cymande,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Zeros,
Loose Ends,
Kool Moe Dee,
The New Christs,
Whodini,
The Pretty Things,
Jeff Lynne,
Roger Hodgson,
Excepter,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smiths,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Wolf Eyes,
The Evens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Human League,
Cheater Slicks,
Flash Fearless,
Bush Tetras,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Sheep,
The Divine Comedy,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.