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 Liberia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 New York Dolls to the punk 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
June Days,
Jacob Miller,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Toasters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Easy Going,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blackbyrds,
Derrick May,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Green,
The Neon Judgement,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Womack,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Heaven 17,
Bill Near,
Country Teasers,
UT,
The Alarm Clocks,
Moebius,
Visage,
Chrome,
The New Christs,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Lydon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gories,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
The Young Rascals,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Vogues,
JFA,
Los Fastidios,
The Birthday Party,
Banda Bassotti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Anthony Braxton,
World's Most,
Altered Images,
Sarah Menescal,
This Heat,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.