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 Bulgaria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock 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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
Icehouse,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
This Heat,
Harmonia,
Roger Hodgson,
Brothers Johnson,
David Bowie,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brand Nubian,
Supertramp,
Rhythm & Sound,
Flipper,
Quadrant,
Buzzcocks,
Wings,
Essential Logic,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
The Cramps,
Soulsonic Force,
Don Cherry,
Visage,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Bush Tetras,
The Mummies,
Juan Atkins,
Eddi Front,
Pylon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nico,
The Wake,
Altered Images,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swell Maps,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Soft Cell,
Eden Ahbez,
Gong,
New Order,
One Last Wish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Niagra,
The Monks,
New Age Steppers,
Japan,
Slave,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
Funkadelic,
Barry Ungar,
In Retrospect,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.