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 Czech Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 Gun Club to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Crash Course in Science,
Magma,
Aswad,
Quando Quango,
Josef K,
Whodini,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rites of Spring,
Slick Rick,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mars,
UT,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dark Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Lindisfarne,
Letta Mbulu,
The J.B.'s,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bush Tetras,
Harmonia,
Y Pants,
The Fugs,
This Heat,
Nick Fraelich,
Henry Cow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
Stereo Dub,
Grauzone,
John Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Lydon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.