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 Senegal and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonic Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scientists,
Skarface,
AZ,
Liliput,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Invisible,
Slave,
The Fugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
Bluetip,
Kaleidoscope,
Kerrie Biddell,
Toni Rubio,
Judy Mowatt,
E-Dancer,
Gerry Rafferty,
H. Thieme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
Roxette,
Fatback Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Second Layer,
Jandek,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Foxx,
The Cramps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nico,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mary Jane Girls,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Monolake,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Near,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
This Heat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Wings,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.