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 Sri Lanka and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pussy Galore to the crunk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
The Human League,
The Cure,
Amon Düül,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rites of Spring,
kango's stein massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
The Doobie Brothers,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Happenings,
Howard Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
MC5,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scan 7,
Japan,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mark Hollis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Model 500,
Black Bananas,
Section 25,
Brass Construction,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Sonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
Essential Logic,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alice Coltrane,
The Slits,
The Trojans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Fluxion,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.