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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Young Rascals to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Maurizio,
Lyres,
Make Up,
Niagra,
Eddi Front,
Boogie Down Productions,
Peter & Gordon,
Gong,
Slave,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Sheep,
Eric Copeland,
The Moleskins,
The Star Department,
Angry Samoans,
The Gories,
New York Dolls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Chris & Cosey,
Ohio Players,
Nas,
Q and Not U,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Moebius,
the Swans,
The Associates,
John Holt,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wire,
Con Funk Shun,
World's Most,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Moon,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
Todd Terry,
R.M.O.,
CMW,
Gang of Four,
Gang Green,
Man Parrish,
Malaria!,
Graham Central Station,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Sonics,
Josef K,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Surgeon,
The Searchers,
Deakin,
The Fortunes,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.