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 Lebanon and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deepchord,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
Alison Limerick,
Soft Machine,
Blake Baxter,
The Mummies,
Ultra Naté,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Don Cherry,
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
Goldenarms,
Mars,
Nils Olav,
Rosa Yemen,
Aswad,
Rotary Connection,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
the Sonics,
Warsaw,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Matthew Halsall,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
Sarah Menescal,
Reuben Wilson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
The Seeds,
Franke,
Joensuu 1685,
Nik Kershaw,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ten City,
Porter Ricks,
Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Moon,
K-Klass,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yaz,
Fugazi,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mission of Burma,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.