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 Paraguay and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sister Nancy to the grime 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Newcleus,
the Bar-Kays,
John Holt,
Marvin Gaye,
Lungfish,
The Pretty Things,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-102,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxette,
Barrington Levy,
Chris Corsano,
Ronan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Judy Mowatt,
Aural Exciters,
Fela Kuti,
Nils Olav,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delta 5,
Ultimate Spinach,
Colin Newman,
Deadbeat,
The Invisible,
E-Dancer,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
Archie Shepp,
Khruangbin,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare,
Yaz,
Bill Wells,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Schoolly D,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
Aloha Tigers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
The Slits,
Aswad,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Move,
Grauzone,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
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.