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 Samoa and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Mission of Burma to the punk 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Judy Mowatt,
Simply Red,
The Music Machine,
Soft Machine,
X-102,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
Quadrant,
Letta Mbulu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Wyatt,
CMW,
Wings,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Flag,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris & Cosey,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
PIL,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric Copeland,
New Order,
the Sonics,
Excepter,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kas Product,
Absolute Body Control,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Dual Sessions,
David Axelrod,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Vladislav Delay,
The Associates,
Skaos,
Roxy Music,
Scrapy,
Monks,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Ken Boothe,
Michelle Simonal,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
the Bar-Kays,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.