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 Mauritania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Inner City to the rap 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Country Teasers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
The Standells,
L. Decosne,
Ronnie Foster,
Lindisfarne,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
Mars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Circle Jerks,
The Star Department,
The Real Kids,
Camouflage,
Eve St. Jones,
Index,
Ultra Naté,
Can,
Sister Nancy,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
Sparks,
The Mummies,
Reuben Wilson,
Quando Quango,
Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ornette Coleman,
Wolf Eyes,
June Days,
cv313,
The Buckinghams,
The Pretty Things,
These Immortal Souls,
Tres Demented,
Nirvana,
Schoolly D,
Pole,
Organ,
Surgeon,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lyres,
Max Romeo,
The Associates,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash,
CMW,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Joyce Sims,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.