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 Suriname and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Radio Birdman to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
UT,
World's Most,
Connie Case,
the Association,
Supertramp,
Main Source,
Wolf Eyes,
Suicide,
Aswad,
The Slackers,
Alice Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Procol Harum,
CMW,
Idris Muhammad,
Absolute Body Control,
Glenn Branca,
The Index,
Visage,
Infiniti,
Boredoms,
Von Mondo,
The Monochrome Set,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Terry Callier,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pantaleimon,
L. Decosne,
MC5,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
Brick,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Television,
Nick Fraelich,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camberwell Now,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Cameo,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Certain Ratio,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.