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 Belarus and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 Glenn Branca to the electroclash 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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
Darondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
James White and The Blacks,
The Invisible,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crash Course in Science,
Lebanon Hanover,
Infiniti,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Kinks,
Easy Going,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Khruangbin,
The Pretty Things,
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
Slave,
Neil Young,
Amon Düül,
Mandrill,
Joey Negro,
Suicide,
Con Funk Shun,
Procol Harum,
Tres Demented,
the Human League,
Derrick May,
Television Personalities,
Quantec,
Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
Essential Logic,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Jimmy McGriff,
T. Rex,
Shuggie Otis,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Victims,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marvin Gaye,
Altered Images,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
Kayak,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.