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 Monaco and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Smiths to the rock 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Arab on Radar,
Main Source,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Sugar Minott,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang On A Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
Josef K,
Inner City,
Pere Ubu,
Chrome,
The Evens,
Sam Rivers,
Symarip,
DNA,
Aswad,
Von Mondo,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Gang Dance,
Malaria!,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slave,
Severed Heads,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Terry,
Television,
The Red Krayola,
Graham Central Station,
Zapp,
Das Ding,
Spoonie Gee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
PIL,
Matthew Halsall,
The Birthday Party,
Dennis Brown,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
MDC,
Tres Demented,
Yusef Lateef,
Fela Kuti,
The Kinks,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.