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 Syria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Junior Murvin to the rap 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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Con Funk Shun,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
Maleditus Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
Sparks,
One Last Wish,
Index,
Gang Green,
The Gladiators,
Reagan Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
June of 44,
Ultimate Spinach,
Dave Gahan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Golliwogs,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Christie,
The J.B.'s,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Sonics,
Nico,
Hardrive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Busters,
Don Cherry,
Supertramp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sällskapet,
Porter Ricks,
The Move,
Sister Nancy,
AZ,
Brass Construction,
Ultra Naté,
Yaz,
Babytalk,
The Toasters,
John Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.