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 Uruguay and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Q and Not U to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Minny Pops,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Real Kids,
Q and Not U,
Sugar Minott,
Yaz,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
The Leaves,
Franke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Can,
Alison Limerick,
The Busters,
The Offenders,
Mad Mike,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
Terry Callier,
Bush Tetras,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pretty Things,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Index,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy Collins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
The Martian,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Kinks,
Roy Ayers,
The Happenings,
The Gun Club,
Hashim,
Warsaw,
Depeche Mode,
Quantec,
The American Breed,
Hot Snakes,
The Trojans,
Sixth Finger,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.