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 Bangladesh and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 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 Cameo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Sam Rivers,
Kerrie Biddell,
A Certain Ratio,
Joe Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy Collins,
Khruangbin,
Nico,
Lyres,
Hashim,
Rosa Yemen,
Barry Ungar,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sugar Minott,
Donald Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
China Crisis,
The Smiths,
Jacob Miller,
The Fall,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
MDC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Sherman,
Suicide,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ronnie Foster,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
Sun Ra,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Association,
The Saints,
Eve St. Jones,
F. McDonald,
Jawbox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Television,
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
Tim Buckley,
Moby Grape,
Unwound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Slave,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hot Snakes,
The Durutti Column,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
Bill Near,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.