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 Angola and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and a harpsichord 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 an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Index,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fortunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
Kevin Saunderson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lindisfarne,
Massinfluence,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
Junior Murvin,
Toni Rubio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Arthur Verocai,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mantronix,
The Tremeloes,
OOIOO,
Camberwell Now,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
Saccharine Trust,
Sam Rivers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
Quadrant,
Marmalade,
Aaron Thompson,
Kenny Larkin,
Masters at Work,
Oneida,
Icehouse,
The Gun Club,
Thee Headcoats,
Funkadelic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eli Mardock,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
The Music Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Barrington Levy,
Nas,
The Skatalites,
Wolf Eyes,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
CMW,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Human League,
the Slits,
The Remains,
Johnny Osbourne,
Second Layer,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.