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 Kenya and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Blancmange to the crunk 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pierre Henry,
F. McDonald,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
Ultravox,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
a-ha,
The Cure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
Derrick Morgan,
JFA,
Judy Mowatt,
Sam Rivers,
Prince Buster,
The Count Five,
Suicide,
Arthur Verocai,
Neil Young,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Music Machine,
Motorama,
China Crisis,
kango's stein massive,
Khruangbin,
Harmonia,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
PIL,
Symarip,
The Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
The Divine Comedy,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Finger,
Hashim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kas Product,
Matthew Halsall,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Christie,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
The Gories,
Moss Icon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swell Maps,
The Remains,
New Order,
Idris Muhammad,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Visage,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.