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 Malta and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord 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 The Angels of Light to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Neil Young,
Reuben Wilson,
Brothers Johnson,
Erykah Badu,
the Bar-Kays,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Bob Dylan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wolf Eyes,
Grey Daturas,
Gang of Four,
Robert Hood,
Youth Brigade,
June Days,
Buzzcocks,
Albert Ayler,
Mr. Review,
Mo-Dettes,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Subhumans,
Soulsonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
Outsiders,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Zapp,
Supertramp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Mummies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stiv Bators,
Interpol,
New Age Steppers,
Robert Görl,
Gang Green,
Josef K,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronnie Foster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Intrusion,
The Cure,
Sugar Minott,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.