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 Kazakhstan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Fania All-Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Newcleus,
The Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
The Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Teasers,
Donald Byrd,
Von Mondo,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Quantec,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
Aural Exciters,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
Nas,
Marmalade,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boredoms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
The Gladiators,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
Leonard Cohen,
Erasure,
Jacob Miller,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Birthday Party,
This Heat,
Steve Hackett,
Suicide,
Robert Wyatt,
Sight & Sound,
Howard Jones,
Scratch Acid,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Shuggie Otis,
Stereo Dub,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Livin' Joy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Raincoats,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.