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 Malaysia and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Max Romeo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Bad Manners,
Public Enemy,
The Selecter,
Yellowson,
Tom Boy,
The Remains,
Freddie Wadling,
Grey Daturas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minny Pops,
Faust,
K-Klass,
Susan Cadogan,
Popol Vuh,
Agitation Free,
the Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Judy Mowatt,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy,
Depeche Mode,
Kurtis Blow,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ken Boothe,
Scientists,
Khruangbin,
the Bar-Kays,
La Düsseldorf,
Crash Course in Science,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Sun City Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ten City,
Derrick Morgan,
Tears for Fears,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Knickerbockers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Index,
10cc,
Gong,
Stetsasonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Harry Pussy,
Rapeman,
UT,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Christie,
the Slits,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.