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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Heaven 17 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories 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?
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Hood,
Whodini,
Easy Going,
The United States of America,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
The Star Department,
China Crisis,
Pylon,
The Gladiators,
Ultravox,
Spoonie Gee,
Bill Near,
David Axelrod,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Grauzone,
Carl Craig,
Jimmy McGriff,
Goldenarms,
Soul II Soul,
Trumans Water,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aswad,
Alison Limerick,
Suburban Knight,
Procol Harum,
Oneida,
Tom Boy,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
World's Most,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Byrd,
Warsaw,
Black Bananas,
Eddi Front,
Second Layer,
Hoover,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boredoms,
Marvin Gaye,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
Cybotron,
Cheater Slicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Henry Cow,
Chris Corsano,
Deepchord,
Moss Icon,
Darondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.