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 Comoros and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Graham Central Station,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grey Daturas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blossom Toes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cramps,
Swans,
June Days,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fad Gadget,
CMW,
Public Enemy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Selecter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q and Not U,
Dave Gahan,
The Black Dice,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fuzztones,
Slave,
Zapp,
Ultravox,
Unrelated Segments,
Yusef Lateef,
K-Klass,
Kaleidoscope,
Aloha Tigers,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crooked Eye,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stereo Dub,
Charles Mingus,
Sun City Girls,
Magma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
LL Cool J,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül,
Eric B and Rakim,
Smog,
Pylon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric Dolphy,
Deadbeat,
Black Flag,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.