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 New Zealand and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moby Grape,
DNA,
Minutemen,
The Residents,
Fluxion,
Glenn Branca,
Index,
Royal Trux,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Aaron Thompson,
EPMD,
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
The New Christs,
E-Dancer,
Pierre Henry,
H. Thieme,
Yazoo,
The Searchers,
Arthur Verocai,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Desert Stars,
Kayak,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quando Quango,
Todd Terry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David McCallum,
Howard Jones,
DJ Sneak,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lungfish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Flipper,
Jeff Lynne,
K-Klass,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Mummies,
The Saints,
Ken Boothe,
Radio Birdman,
Toni Rubio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ponytail,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.