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 Venezuela and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Khruangbin to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The American Breed,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Enemy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
ABC,
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick May,
Brand Nubian,
Public Image Ltd.,
Accadde A,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Second Layer,
In Retrospect,
Ohio Players,
Supertramp,
Dual Sessions,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
Gang Starr,
Boz Scaggs,
World's Most,
Siglo XX,
KRS-One,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
MDC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dirtbombs,
Mantronix,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Pus,
The Leaves,
Mad Mike,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalann,
Jandek,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
The Stooges,
Can,
Alison Limerick,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
The Count Five,
The Residents,
The Gap Band,
Crime,
Ludus,
Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Fear,
Ultimate Spinach,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Rakim,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.