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 Bhutan and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Nas to the funk 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pylon,
Au Pairs,
Yaz,
John Lydon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cecil Taylor,
Section 25,
Joe Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scrapy,
Moby Grape,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Smoke,
The Young Rascals,
Eden Ahbez,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ice-T,
Stereo Dub,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
the Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
Bobby Byrd,
Oblivians,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Finger,
Lungfish,
the Swans,
Matthew Halsall,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
kango's stein massive,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
Neil Young,
Marc Almond,
Aural Exciters,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Names,
Icehouse,
Cluster,
The Sonics,
The Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
The Pop Group,
Unwound,
Urselle,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fugs,
The Mojo Men,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
John Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Yazoo,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.