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 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Rotary Connection to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
UT,
Toni Rubio,
The Litter,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rod Modell,
The Birthday Party,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
Sarah Menescal,
Wings,
Reuben Wilson,
The Residents,
Cecil Taylor,
Moby Grape,
Spoonie Gee,
Erasure,
Cal Tjader,
The Index,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Little Man,
Sandy B,
Blancmange,
Parry Music,
Slick Rick,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool Moe Dee,
JFA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kevin Saunderson,
B.T. Express,
Youth Brigade,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brick,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy Collins,
Banda Bassotti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Echospace,
Rufus Thomas,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.