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 Mauritius and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the rock 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Funkadelic,
the Sonics,
Niagra,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Make Up,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
Suicide,
Depeche Mode,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Happenings,
Malaria!,
Marcia Griffiths,
Q and Not U,
Surgeon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
Cameo,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
The Flesh Eaters,
Negative Approach,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultra Naté,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Blues Magoos,
Nico,
Agent Orange,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Magazine,
Steve Hackett,
Stiv Bators,
Heaven 17,
Stereo Dub,
The American Breed,
Chris Corsano,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Angry Samoans,
Adolescents,
Simply Red,
Faraquet,
Subhumans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lakeside,
Sun City Girls,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Axelrod,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Terry,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Raincoats,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.