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 Chile and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Pus,
Prince Buster,
Black Bananas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Barracudas,
Dual Sessions,
The Smiths,
Reuben Wilson,
Charles Mingus,
Adolescents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Warsaw,
Little Man,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Teasers,
Erykah Badu,
Graham Central Station,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pole,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
Mars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swans,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Skatalites,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter and Kerry,
Connie Case,
Half Japanese,
Shoche,
Nick Fraelich,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
Tropical Tobacco,
Monks,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
Gregory Isaacs,
DJ Sneak,
Quadrant,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.