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 Bangladesh and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Blackbyrds to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Slackers,
The Fuzztones,
Massinfluence,
The Cure,
Shuggie Otis,
The Count Five,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eddi Front,
The Cowsills,
Moebius,
The Misunderstood,
Groovy Waters,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
The Star Department,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
Deakin,
Minutemen,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Urselle,
Yazoo,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
The Searchers,
Cybotron,
Blancmange,
Q65,
KRS-One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
Masters at Work,
Faraquet,
The Music Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.