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 Lesotho and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Donald Fagen 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 Dirtbombs to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
The Angels of Light,
Sixth Finger,
Arab on Radar,
The Moleskins,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aural Exciters,
the Germs,
The Busters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Quando Quango,
Sam Rivers,
The Names,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Severed Heads,
Peter and Kerry,
Pylon,
Babytalk,
Joyce Sims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nas,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Invisible,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
KRS-One,
Interpol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Marmalade,
Whodini,
Monolake,
Camouflage,
Easy Going,
The Happenings,
Funky Four + One,
Ohio Players,
LL Cool J,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
The Human League,
Althea and Donna,
Q and Not U,
Howard Jones,
The Fortunes,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Ponytail,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.