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 Uruguay and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 The Slackers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Surgeon,
Peter and Kerry,
10cc,
DJ Sneak,
The Searchers,
Altered Images,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
The Blues Magoos,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Shuggie Otis,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
June of 44,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lindisfarne,
Lyres,
Eurythmics,
Fear,
Deakin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker,
The Buckinghams,
The Smoke,
Jeff Mills,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skarface,
Black Flag,
Stiv Bators,
New York Dolls,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog,
Lakeside,
Sugar Minott,
Patti Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Oblivians,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
H. Thieme,
The Birthday Party,
The Dead C,
Panda Bear,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric Dolphy,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
The Motions,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
World's Most,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Byrd,
Dennis Brown,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Quadrant,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.