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 Andorra and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barrington Levy to the crunk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Ludus,
Andrew Hill,
Byron Stingily,
Sonny Sharrock,
Inner City,
Howard Jones,
Thee Headcoats,
The Count Five,
Hashim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hot Snakes,
The Sonics,
The Smoke,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Hasil Adkins,
Cal Tjader,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
the Normal,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
Mr. Review,
Cymande,
The Offenders,
Eli Mardock,
Charles Mingus,
Symarip,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Lungfish,
Johnny Clarke,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
Ten City,
Radiohead,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lebanon Hanover,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Sällskapet,
Marine Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harmonia,
the Germs,
Theoretical Girls,
Ponytail,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.