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 Kuwait and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the funk 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Faust,
Patti Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Mantronix,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Blancmange,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Oneida,
Nik Kershaw,
Harmonia,
Q65,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Warren Ellis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Niagra,
New York Dolls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Black Moon,
Jandek,
Jimmy McGriff,
K-Klass,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Y Pants,
Eurythmics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Japan,
Underground Resistance,
Minny Pops,
Judy Mowatt,
Audionom,
Sister Nancy,
Oblivians,
Peter and Kerry,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül II,
Negative Approach,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
Althea and Donna,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacob Miller,
Quadrant,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wire,
Archie Shepp,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.