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 Tonga 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fatback Band to the techno 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
The Fall,
John Foxx,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
Massinfluence,
The Gories,
Basic Channel,
Junior Murvin,
Magma,
Fluxion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alton Ellis,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Busters,
Minny Pops,
A Certain Ratio,
Harmonia,
The Angels of Light,
L. Decosne,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Sam Rivers,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Accadde A,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker,
Royal Trux,
The Gladiators,
Connie Case,
Mars,
Siglo XX,
Radiohead,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
The Litter,
Rotary Connection,
Black Pus,
Hardrive,
Johnny Clarke,
Dawn Penn,
Kaleidoscope,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.