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 South Africa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the funk 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
Metal Thangz,
Mission of Burma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Foxx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Joy Division,
Scion,
Soulsonic Force,
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Association,
John Lydon,
The Busters,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Green,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Funky Four + One,
New Order,
Panda Bear,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Fluxion,
Animal Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Y Pants,
Erasure,
Tommy Roe,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Erykah Badu,
Amon Düül,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aloha Tigers,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
Minny Pops,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Ossler,
Marmalade,
X-101,
Ronan,
Lucky Dragons,
Flash Fearless,
The Blues Magoos,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.