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 Laos and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Brass Construction to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Scan 7,
Swell Maps,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronan,
Franke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
Fela Kuti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Litter,
Smog,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sister Nancy,
The Invisible,
Porter Ricks,
Index,
Wally Richardson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Subhumans,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yaz,
Minutemen,
David McCallum,
The Gories,
Letta Mbulu,
The Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Rod Modell,
Jandek,
New Age Steppers,
Intrusion,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Negative Approach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Glenn Branca,
The Cure,
The Offenders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
David Axelrod,
Soul Sonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
The Durutti Column,
Eli Mardock,
John Holt,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.