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 Kazakhstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Clarke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kayak,
Gang of Four,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Isaac Hayes,
Cluster,
The Residents,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Outsiders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Morten Harket,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mummies,
Kenny Larkin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Model 500,
Jeff Lynne,
New Order,
Fugazi,
Fear,
The Searchers,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aloha Tigers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
The Monochrome Set,
Althea and Donna,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim,
David Axelrod,
A Certain Ratio,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
Chris Corsano,
Boogie Down Productions,
Flash Fearless,
The Invisible,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Saints,
Fatback Band,
Von Mondo,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
T. Rex,
Scientists,
Drexciya,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.