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 Papua New Guinea 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Monks to the rap 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
The Gun Club,
Lungfish,
Technova,
The Raincoats,
Make Up,
The Evens,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tim Buckley,
Sight & Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultravox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Judy Mowatt,
The Searchers,
Japan,
Stetsasonic,
the Swans,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Susan Cadogan,
Morten Harket,
Bill Near,
Oblivians,
OOIOO,
Lower 48,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
Schoolly D,
Wally Richardson,
Laurel Aitken,
Minnie Riperton,
The Moleskins,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
Swell Maps,
Panda Bear,
Skarface,
the Slits,
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
Howard Jones,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tubeway Army,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.