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 Malawi and from Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 The Index to the grunge 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
L. Decosne,
Can,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skarface,
Lou Christie,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Negative Approach,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
John Coltrane,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
Pole,
The Misunderstood,
Radiohead,
Half Japanese,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
The Dirtbombs,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Womack,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Barracudas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wings,
Aaron Thompson,
Soulsonic Force,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dead C,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
E-Dancer,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Amon Düül,
Quando Quango,
Altered Images,
Junior Murvin,
Excepter,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
Marmalade,
Motorama,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Goldenarms,
Sun Ra,
F. McDonald,
Tom Boy,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.