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 Ireland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Babytalk to the punk 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Erasure,
Angry Samoans,
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Pylon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sällskapet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fat Boys,
Shoche,
Public Enemy,
Animal Collective,
Television,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster,
Underground Resistance,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Basic Channel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yusef Lateef,
The New Christs,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
Trumans Water,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
The Angels of Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Deakin,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Moleskins,
The Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T. Rex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
the Association,
Kayak,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris Corsano,
Cymande,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.