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 Ghana and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Jacques Brel to the grunge 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
R.M.O.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Theoretical Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
Slave,
Bootsy Collins,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Roxette,
Peter and Kerry,
Graham Central Station,
Glambeats Corp.,
Piero Umiliani,
The Shadows of Knight,
Icehouse,
Bronski Beat,
Judy Mowatt,
Interpol,
Simply Red,
Derrick May,
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cameo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric B and Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
Ornette Coleman,
Joey Negro,
the Association,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Womack,
Frankie Knuckles,
ABBA,
Marc Almond,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eurythmics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Intrusion,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Bananas,
Sex Pistols,
LL Cool J,
This Heat,
Vladislav Delay,
Babytalk,
Suburban Knight,
Japan,
48th St. Collective,
The Fuzztones,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.