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 Israel and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angels of Light to the electroclash 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Joy Division,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
Y Pants,
UT,
X-102,
This Heat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sex Pistols,
Nils Olav,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barrington Levy,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
Rekid,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Motions,
Rapeman,
Tim Buckley,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
Lungfish,
Porter Ricks,
Average White Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deadbeat,
AZ,
Sugar Minott,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wally Richardson,
Scrapy,
Cybotron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funky Four + One,
Television Personalities,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Yazoo,
Lucky Dragons,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Sherman,
Oneida,
The Evens,
Skriet,
Marvin Gaye,
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Negative Approach,
Alison Limerick,
The Slits,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.