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 Nauru and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Knickerbockers to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
The Music Machine,
Nico,
The Skatalites,
ABBA,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
Loose Ends,
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
The Young Rascals,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Josef K,
Motorama,
Anakelly,
MDC,
Malaria!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Christie,
Sister Nancy,
Eddi Front,
Harry Pussy,
Porter Ricks,
Bluetip,
Terry Callier,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Funkadelic,
Reagan Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
CMW,
E-Dancer,
Thompson Twins,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aloha Tigers,
Dual Sessions,
Whodini,
Essential Logic,
The J.B.'s,
The Gun Club,
Stetsasonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Hardrive,
Dennis Brown,
Alphaville,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Shuggie Otis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oblivians,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ossler,
Flipper,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.