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 Portugal and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Neon Judgement to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Franke,
Tubeway Army,
Second Layer,
Sparks,
Ronan,
Zapp,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
Crash Course in Science,
Infiniti,
Popol Vuh,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
The Modern Lovers,
Magazine,
Scientists,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mummies,
Skriet,
Glenn Branca,
Harmonia,
Wings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rapeman,
Anakelly,
Black Sheep,
Marmalade,
Sandy B,
Dual Sessions,
Nas,
Intrusion,
Scott Walker,
Rakim,
Mars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
Maurizio,
Fad Gadget,
Pulsallama,
Black Pus,
Zero Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Bill Wells,
Sight & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Mills,
EPMD,
The Smiths,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Deadbeat,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.