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 Spain and from London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Surgeon 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rod Modell,
Grauzone,
The Standells,
Delta 5,
Gang of Four,
ABBA,
Pantaleimon,
Joyce Sims,
B.T. Express,
Toni Rubio,
Lakeside,
Ponytail,
the Normal,
Jawbox,
Colin Newman,
Barrington Levy,
Ken Boothe,
UT,
Erasure,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gap Band,
Minnie Riperton,
H. Thieme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Sun Ra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mojo Men,
Althea and Donna,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick May,
Al Stewart,
Maurizio,
The Raincoats,
Wings,
Black Sheep,
Jacques Brel,
Yaz,
Sixth Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Brass Construction,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Subhumans,
Tom Boy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Christie,
Ice-T,
The Moleskins,
Lungfish,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Sherman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.