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 Russia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Cymande to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL 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?
Alison Limerick,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
The Leaves,
Visage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Charles Mingus,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks,
Dennis Brown,
Second Layer,
The Golliwogs,
The Fire Engines,
Boz Scaggs,
Delta 5,
La Düsseldorf,
Suburban Knight,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
James White and The Blacks,
Procol Harum,
Absolute Body Control,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Joensuu 1685,
Zapp,
Todd Terry,
The Birthday Party,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
The Searchers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quantec,
Pantaleimon,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Carl Craig,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Cell,
John Holt,
The Evens,
The Red Krayola,
Joe Smooth,
Sight & Sound,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier,
Popol Vuh,
Main Source,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.