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 Serbia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Chris & Cosey to the crunk 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Sugar Minott,
DNA,
Mars,
Fat Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Fluxion,
Ohio Players,
the Human League,
Skarface,
Carl Craig,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
Joensuu 1685,
Infiniti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
Sister Nancy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Niagra,
Rakim,
Nirvana,
Dawn Penn,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
The Trojans,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Move,
48th St. Collective,
The Evens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Faraquet,
Arab on Radar,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pole,
Isaac Hayes,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
The Neon Judgement,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Reagan Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Grass Roots,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.