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 Egypt and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 dance 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Yellowson,
The Real Kids,
The Slits,
Intrusion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nirvana,
a-ha,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Procol Harum,
Tomorrow,
Magma,
The Selecter,
The Fire Engines,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Connie Case,
June Days,
Theoretical Girls,
John Holt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minnie Riperton,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tears for Fears,
The Fortunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Silicon Teens,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Dolphy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Carl Craig,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jacques Brel,
Rekid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Yazoo,
Severed Heads,
Vladislav Delay,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Reagan Youth,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.