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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wings to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wasted Youth,
Niagra,
Deepchord,
Black Bananas,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Jacques Brel,
Skriet,
The Music Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oneida,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
Easy Going,
Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Heaven 17,
The Fuzztones,
Vladislav Delay,
Tim Buckley,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
The Blackbyrds,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
the Slits,
Skarface,
New Order,
Yusef Lateef,
Loose Ends,
Amazonics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
The Raincoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Infiniti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Albert Ayler,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
Isaac Hayes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Agitation Free,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.