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 Fiji and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Moody Blues to the dance 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Red Krayola,
Gong,
Andrew Hill,
The Trojans,
Half Japanese,
Depeche Mode,
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joy Division,
Warren Ellis,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ten City,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cameo,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Saccharine Trust,
The Busters,
Michelle Simonal,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
The Names,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Kayak,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aural Exciters,
The Misunderstood,
The Residents,
Au Pairs,
Los Fastidios,
Graham Central Station,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Adolescents,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.