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 Benin and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Desert Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Grass Roots,
Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
T.S.O.L.,
The Raincoats,
Oneida,
Minutemen,
Hot Snakes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun City Girls,
Scrapy,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABC,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Godley & Creme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Das Ding,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Hood,
Ituana,
Y Pants,
Jacob Miller,
Aaron Thompson,
OOIOO,
Alison Limerick,
Bang On A Can,
World's Most,
Slave,
Brothers Johnson,
Mo-Dettes,
Sugar Minott,
Lalann,
Sight & Sound,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
The Victims,
Anakelly,
The Standells,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Pus,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.