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 Azerbaijan and from London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Smiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
Ronnie Foster,
Aswad,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dirtbombs,
Prince Buster,
Joyce Sims,
Wolf Eyes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marshall Jefferson,
The J.B.'s,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jandek,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
The Gladiators,
FM Einheit,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gap Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Howard Jones,
Joey Negro,
Joy Division,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra,
The Pop Group,
Faust,
Babytalk,
Minor Threat,
Barbara Tucker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cheater Slicks,
Supertramp,
Johnny Osbourne,
New Order,
The Blackbyrds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Smog,
Neil Young,
Brothers Johnson,
Depeche Mode,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Goldenarms,
Organ,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.