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 Malta and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The American Breed to the crunk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage 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?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Patti Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Hardrive,
Dawn Penn,
The American Breed,
Frankie Knuckles,
Duran Duran,
UT,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
MC5,
the Association,
Television Personalities,
Masters at Work,
Blake Baxter,
The Leaves,
Nas,
The Remains,
the Fania All-Stars,
OOIOO,
Monolake,
Das Ding,
The Motions,
The Monochrome Set,
Harmonia,
Jawbox,
Juan Atkins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monks,
China Crisis,
Panda Bear,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
The Beau Brummels,
Icehouse,
Deadbeat,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amon Düül,
MDC,
Massinfluence,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
Severed Heads,
Crispy Ambulance,
Young Marble Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Joey Negro,
Bad Manners,
June Days,
Scan 7,
EPMD,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.