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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lille.
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 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 Spoonie Gee to the punk 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
John Coltrane,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Mojo Men,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Hashim,
Visage,
Underground Resistance,
Blossom Toes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
Neil Young,
Bobby Sherman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
Bush Tetras,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Lynne,
Newcleus,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slackers,
Matthew Halsall,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
Howard Jones,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
The Searchers,
The Tremeloes,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
James White and The Blacks,
Tim Buckley,
Pulsallama,
ABC,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yellowson,
Eve St. Jones,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Axelrod,
Crooked Eye,
Das Ding,
Royal Trux,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Absolute Body Control,
Delta 5,
Eli Mardock,
Ice-T,
L. Decosne,
Accadde A,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.