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 Azerbaijan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Silicon Teens to the grime 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nico,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rosa Yemen,
Qualms,
Sixth Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Excepter,
Yellowson,
Junior Murvin,
LL Cool J,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
The Red Krayola,
The Smiths,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
Mars,
The Mummies,
Pylon,
Wally Richardson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Piero Umiliani,
Gong,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Young Marble Giants,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joy Division,
EPMD,
Khruangbin,
Patti Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pussy Galore,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
Davy DMX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Finger,
Aaron Thompson,
Surgeon,
Isaac Hayes,
Livin' Joy,
John Cale,
The Music Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Germs,
Eric Copeland,
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.