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 Bolivia and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
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 Nile Rodgers 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 Quando Quango to the rap 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Black Sheep,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mad Mike,
Ken Boothe,
Jandek,
Scott Walker,
Supertramp,
Marmalade,
Rekid,
Black Flag,
Rotary Connection,
The Saints,
Silicon Teens,
Inner City,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Iggy Pop,
Rites of Spring,
The Seeds,
Rufus Thomas,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
Tim Buckley,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacob Miller,
Thee Headcoats,
Patti Smith,
Junior Murvin,
CMW,
Pylon,
10cc,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gichy Dan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lightning Bolt,
Livin' Joy,
Television Personalities,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funkadelic,
The Names,
Jerry's Kids,
Kurtis Blow,
Davy DMX,
Maurizio,
Mandrill,
Althea and Donna,
Idris Muhammad,
Sound Behaviour,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Angry Samoans,
Howard Jones,
Guru Guru,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.