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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Graham Central Station,
MDC,
Johnny Clarke,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
Funky Four + One,
Ice-T,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Normal,
LL Cool J,
Average White Band,
Archie Shepp,
Ossler,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
The Blackbyrds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Spandau Ballet,
Stiv Bators,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cowsills,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Remains,
Lower 48,
Masters at Work,
The Doors,
Sugar Minott,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doobie Brothers,
X-101,
China Crisis,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crime,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
Aloha Tigers,
The United States of America,
Robert Hood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dirtbombs,
Desert Stars,
Alison Limerick,
Hot Snakes,
Sixth Finger,
Smog,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.