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 Bolivia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soul Sonic Force to the punk 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
David Bowie,
Rod Modell,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
cv313,
the Association,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris Corsano,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Smooth,
Silicon Teens,
Ponytail,
Agitation Free,
Eurythmics,
Bluetip,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Lower 48,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Altered Images,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Severed Heads,
Wasted Youth,
Cal Tjader,
Soft Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Grass Roots,
Bill Near,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yaz,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
CMW,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yellowson,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Darondo,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Massinfluence,
T. Rex,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Country Teasers,
Skaos,
Tropical Tobacco,
JFA,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.