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 Haiti and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DJ Style to the disco 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Au Pairs,
John Holt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Bang On A Can,
The Vogues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vainqueur,
The Leaves,
Quadrant,
Cameo,
Jawbox,
Minny Pops,
The Gladiators,
Hot Snakes,
Camberwell Now,
Stiv Bators,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
New Order,
The Divine Comedy,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick Morgan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Sight & Sound,
Gong,
Pantytec,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronan,
Amazonics,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
Infiniti,
Severed Heads,
The Pretty Things,
Skarface,
A Flock of Seagulls,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun Ra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalann,
The Motions,
Trumans Water,
The Remains,
The Beau Brummels,
Basic Channel,
Wally Richardson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
Section 25,
Loose Ends,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.