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 Thailand and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Martian,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Newcleus,
Anakelly,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Suicide,
Stereo Dub,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Beau Brummels,
Soul II Soul,
Peter and Kerry,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Theoretical Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
DNA,
Mad Mike,
Aaron Thompson,
Letta Mbulu,
Unwound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marmalade,
Al Stewart,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Index,
Alton Ellis,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Star Department,
Mo-Dettes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
Iggy Pop,
The Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Agitation Free,
Liliput,
Dark Day,
Von Mondo,
Joy Division,
Barry Ungar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Saints,
Young Marble Giants,
Camberwell Now,
Saccharine Trust,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.