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 Angola and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lightning Bolt to the dance 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Moby Grape,
The Gap Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vainqueur,
Grauzone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
Black Moon,
Nick Fraelich,
The Selecter,
The Skatalites,
Dave Gahan,
Mr. Review,
The Five Americans,
Altered Images,
Black Pus,
Section 25,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Womack,
Skaos,
Desert Stars,
Hashim,
Deakin,
Sun Ra,
Cluster,
La Düsseldorf,
Lakeside,
Rekid,
Agent Orange,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
Das Ding,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pulsallama,
Depeche Mode,
Unwound,
Nik Kershaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deadbeat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Bourne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.