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 Hungary and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Danielle Patucci to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Underground Resistance,
Cameo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Lower 48,
Harry Pussy,
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Letta Mbulu,
Aloha Tigers,
Lucky Dragons,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Parry Music,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
UT,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crooked Eye,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Main Source,
Shoche,
Darondo,
E-Dancer,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mantronix,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
The Walker Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cheater Slicks,
Harmonia,
Absolute Body Control,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Normal,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
Yellowson,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
Al Stewart,
These Immortal Souls,
Soulsonic Force,
Crime,
Visage,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Arcadia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Radiohead,
Idris Muhammad,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.