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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Iggy Pop to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Duran Duran,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott Heron,
K-Klass,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Subhumans,
cv313,
Ralphi Rosario,
LL Cool J,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Reagan Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
the Association,
Carl Craig,
Symarip,
the Slits,
Dual Sessions,
Reuben Wilson,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Panda Bear,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arcadia,
EPMD,
Babytalk,
Soft Machine,
The Fall,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Pop Group,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Pus,
Underground Resistance,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Monks,
Warsaw,
Harry Pussy,
Jacob Miller,
The Count Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dave Gahan,
Iggy Pop,
The Fuzztones,
Liliput,
Nick Fraelich,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
One Last Wish,
The Golliwogs,
Marvin Gaye,
The Barracudas,
Soulsonic Force,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.