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 Ecuador and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Inner City to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Idris Muhammad,
Icehouse,
David Axelrod,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Reed,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick May,
Marc Almond,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacques Brel,
The Leaves,
Little Man,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
The Associates,
Nirvana,
The Black Dice,
Joensuu 1685,
The Raincoats,
The Techniques,
Mission of Burma,
The Walker Brothers,
The American Breed,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Isaac Hayes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Sonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Henry Cow,
Sandy B,
The Vogues,
The United States of America,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
Skaos,
Easy Going,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Leonard Cohen,
The Martian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun City Girls,
John Foxx,
Mo-Dettes,
Flash Fearless,
The Gun Club,
Ice-T,
Television Personalities,
The Mummies,
Aural Exciters,
F. McDonald,
Pantytec,
Black Flag,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxy Music,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.