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 United States and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 Judy Mowatt to the grunge 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deakin,
Marc Almond,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soulsonic Force,
Slave,
Althea and Donna,
The Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
Soft Machine,
Groovy Waters,
Neu!,
Roy Ayers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Goldenarms,
the Fania All-Stars,
Adolescents,
Jacques Brel,
The New Christs,
Loose Ends,
Michelle Simonal,
John Foxx,
Bad Manners,
Joey Negro,
Derrick Morgan,
Gichy Dan,
Derrick May,
Public Image Ltd.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Bronski Beat,
Crime,
Youth Brigade,
Terry Callier,
the Slits,
Radiohead,
Parry Music,
Country Teasers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Moody Blues,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Suburban Knight,
The Seeds,
Peter and Kerry,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
Sound Behaviour,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.