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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Circle Jerks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ronan,
Motorama,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eli Mardock,
Maurizio,
Sparks,
The Sonics,
In Retrospect,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
Bronski Beat,
Barbara Tucker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Moody Blues,
48th St. Collective,
Rotary Connection,
Little Man,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Eddi Front,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
The Stooges,
Donald Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yellowson,
Rakim,
The Count Five,
Chrome,
The Velvet Underground,
Quadrant,
Q65,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fugs,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Zapp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
One Last Wish,
The Gories,
X-102,
The Electric Prunes,
Section 25,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
Qualms,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.