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 Korea South and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 R.M.O. to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Byron Stingily,
Kayak,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonic Youth,
The Offenders,
10cc,
The Birthday Party,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Gang Dance,
Interpol,
Technova,
Cameo,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deakin,
Mandrill,
Second Layer,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Charles Mingus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mad Mike,
Sex Pistols,
Fela Kuti,
The Gun Club,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
The Litter,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Blackbyrds,
Dawn Penn,
Tim Buckley,
Moebius,
Arab on Radar,
Mo-Dettes,
Sixth Finger,
Quantec,
Crispy Ambulance,
48th St. Collective,
Crooked Eye,
The Grass Roots,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Techniques,
The Cramps,
The Cowsills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultra Naté,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.