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 Samoa and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Eddi Front to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Marine Girls,
David McCallum,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Vogues,
Soft Machine,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mad Mike,
Fela Kuti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Leaves,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare,
Max Romeo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Infiniti,
the Association,
Yusef Lateef,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
Johnny Clarke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blake Baxter,
The Fugs,
Mark Hollis,
Easy Going,
the Swans,
The Evens,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Goldenarms,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gap Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barry Ungar,
John Lydon,
Morten Harket,
The Human League,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Arcadia,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
Symarip,
Godley & Creme,
Idris Muhammad,
Crime,
Smog,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.