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 Micronesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator 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 Bush Tetras to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
Ossler,
The Stooges,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Fatback Band,
Juan Atkins,
Don Cherry,
Animal Collective,
MC5,
the Normal,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
K-Klass,
48th St. Collective,
Zapp,
Terrestrial Tones,
Simply Red,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
The Motions,
Massinfluence,
Eden Ahbez,
Matthew Halsall,
Hot Snakes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
Rakim,
Connie Case,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Al Stewart,
Young Marble Giants,
Joyce Sims,
UT,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Johnny Clarke,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
The Five Americans,
Pantytec,
Television Personalities,
Camouflage,
Marmalade,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.