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 Egypt and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
T. Rex,
Joey Negro,
Magma,
Black Pus,
The Cramps,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABBA,
Eli Mardock,
Panda Bear,
Eric Copeland,
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Suicide,
Pole,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Flipper,
Sound Behaviour,
Heaven 17,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drexciya,
The Angels of Light,
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blossom Toes,
Swans,
Von Mondo,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
The Last Poets,
Girls At Our Best!,
Young Marble Giants,
Slave,
Rekid,
David Axelrod,
Soft Machine,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fortunes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Nils Olav,
Curtis Mayfield,
Parry Music,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Radio Birdman,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
John Lydon,
Suburban Knight,
Fear,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.