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 Senegal and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris Corsano to the rock 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The Index,
The Grass Roots,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Zero Boys,
Bill Wells,
Mission of Burma,
Tres Demented,
Ten City,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
Rakim,
Television,
Sun Ra,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül,
Das Ding,
48th St. Collective,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
UT,
Barrington Levy,
Dead Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Eve St. Jones,
Surgeon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Residents,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nils Olav,
Porter Ricks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mo-Dettes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cameo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tears for Fears,
the Bar-Kays,
Scan 7,
Boogie Down Productions,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
The Names,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul II Soul,
Mad Mike,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lalann,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeff Lynne,
Lakeside,
Joyce Sims,
Fad Gadget,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Sherman,
Interpol,
John Lydon,
Moby Grape,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.