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 Sri Lanka and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Nico to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Fat Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Johnny Clarke,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
Pulsallama,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joy Division,
Metal Thangz,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sisters of Mercy,
June of 44,
Sonic Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül II,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fad Gadget,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Man Parrish,
Blake Baxter,
Harry Pussy,
Ultravox,
Underground Resistance,
Pussy Galore,
The Searchers,
David Bowie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Deakin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Laurel Aitken,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Swans,
The Dead C,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bush Tetras,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
Rekid,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
DJ Sneak,
The Five Americans,
Jeff Lynne,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Prunes,
Flipper,
Dorothy Ashby,
Country Teasers,
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
Freddie Wadling,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.