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 Czech Republic and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas 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?
The Busters,
The Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
LL Cool J,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Inner City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sun City Girls,
D'Angelo,
Rekid,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls,
The Names,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bad Manners,
The Music Machine,
Eurythmics,
Excepter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tom Boy,
The Beau Brummels,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dark Day,
Essential Logic,
Joensuu 1685,
The Kinks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
DNA,
Arab on Radar,
Country Teasers,
The Toasters,
Moby Grape,
Sound Behaviour,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lucky Dragons,
CMW,
Dave Gahan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Model 500,
Electric Prunes,
Joe Smooth,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mr. Review,
Visage,
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
Pole,
Marine Girls,
Stetsasonic,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.