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 Iraq and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Siglo XX to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
The Motions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Red Krayola,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Machine,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eurythmics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
DNA,
Ken Boothe,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Starr,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-Ray Spex,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Buzzcocks,
Bad Manners,
The Trojans,
Smog,
Barrington Levy,
Reagan Youth,
E-Dancer,
The Index,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
Sam Rivers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sixth Finger,
The Sound,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Donny Hathaway,
Faust,
Skaos,
Wings,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
The Cure,
Liliput,
Fad Gadget,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.