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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Roxy Music,
The Move,
The Angels of Light,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Siglo XX,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
Black Pus,
The Human League,
Tom Boy,
Tommy Roe,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
Colin Newman,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gregory Isaacs,
Japan,
Mr. Review,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Five Americans,
Roger Hodgson,
Delta 5,
Aloha Tigers,
Drexciya,
Bootsy Collins,
the Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
Hot Snakes,
Dark Day,
Rod Modell,
ABC,
The Barracudas,
Juan Atkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Trumans Water,
Arthur Verocai,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fad Gadget,
Sparks,
Laurel Aitken,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Supertramp,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Accadde A,
Jeff Mills,
the Human League,
Au Pairs,
The Saints,
Aswad,
Leonard Cohen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wolf Eyes,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.