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 South Sudan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Christie to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Germs. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
Man Parrish,
Barbara Tucker,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
Dennis Brown,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
Metal Thangz,
the Swans,
Urselle,
Eli Mardock,
Crash Course in Science,
Cheater Slicks,
F. McDonald,
Ohio Players,
Das Ding,
The Fall,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deadbeat,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Finger,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
DNA,
Roxy Music,
Heaven 17,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Sound,
Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lou Reed,
Roger Hodgson,
Whodini,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
Niagra,
the Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Visage,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.